


The Master and the Captain

by KahtyaSofia



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Blasphemy, Blow Job, Disturbing, Episode Related, M/M, Non Consensual, Season/Series 01, Time Travel, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-15
Updated: 2009-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-02 15:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/KahtyaSofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack takes an emotional rollercoaster journey at the hands of the Master during the Year That Never Was. The torture is the backdrop, Jack's journey is the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did research on torture for my story, 'Go To Guy' but didn't use but a fraction of what I learned. During a RL conversation with [info]melina123 I took it as a personal challenge to try to put the balance of what I'd learned into a story with some meaning. This is the result. ALL methods of torture and ALL torture devices ARE REAL. With the exception of a certain clear plastic box, all torture implements are either currently in use or were of use during the Spanish Inquisition or in the Roman Empire. Some Sci-Fi alterations were made to some of the devices for dramatic purposes. Endless thanks to Melina, Time Wraith and Corchfalas for their time and attention with beta work. This was a massive undertaking but they made it a better story. They are also owed a round of thanks for not letting me freak out totally and stick with my decision NOT to post this.

Martha looked around the room one last time, saying a wordless goodbye to her family, Jack and the Doctor. Then she was gone. Good girl. She'd used the vortex manipulator on his wrist strap. She was out of the immediate line of fire.

The rest of them stayed where they were, exchanging fearful and confused glances. The Doctor knelt, ancient and broken. The Jones family cowered together in the back of the room. Jack lay where he had fallen. None of them knew what was going to happen next, but one thing was sure. It wasn't going to be good.

And so ended Day 1.  
………………………………………………………….

Day 3

Jack stood shackled between two walls, chained in the sweltering, humid cell. It had been two days since the Master had released the Toclafane on the planet below and two days since he'd had relief from the heat and the fatigue. Jack really was ready for a break. Some sort of diversion.

Someone had come twice yesterday to feed him a tasteless gruel and a bottle of warm water. Jack had to remember to complain to the management about the condition of his room and the quality of his food. This just wasn't acceptable. He'd been taken down the first night and expected to sleep on the floor, but they realized right away he didn't sleep. Last night he hadn't been taken down at all.

Martha's mother had come this morning to feed him a thin broth and a small bottle of water. He'd been alone since.

During the long hours, Jack wondered about Martha. Had she made it clear of the destruction? Was she safe down there somewhere? His team. Saxon had said he'd sent them on a wild goose chase to the Himalayas. Had that been truth or a euphemism? Were they safe?

Surely the Doctor would figure a way out of this for them all. He always figured a way out of the worst situations. This wasn't going to be any different; it was just going to take time. Jack was just going to have to keep an eye out for the signal.

Jack closed his eyes in exhaustion and boredom, poking around inside his own head for some sort of distraction. He settled on the sensations around him. When he concentrated, Jack could feel the thrum of the Valiant's engines through the soles of his boots. The feeling traveled up the length of his legs and settled pleasantly in the core of his body. The same vibrations traveled down the chains that secured him to the wall. The heat and humidity were so thick it made breathing slightly difficult. The next time someone walked by, Jack was going to ask them to please turn the thermostat down just a bit.

At least he could still feel. It was a great thing to still be in touch with his senses. As he thought of what might be to come, he doubted his appreciation would last.

………………………………………………………

Day 5

Martha's sister…what was her name? Trish? Tish! That was it, Tish. She'd brought a nasty vegetable mash for his breakfast and a small bottle of water. How Jack had come to crave the twice-a-day human contact. They were sending him pretty women, too. That was great, but it didn't make up for the poor condition of his accommodations. When he got home he was so going to write someone a letter.

Jack had been chained standing for four unbroken days. His body had stopped aching sometime on the second day. The pain had been replaced by an uncomfortable numbness. He needed a shower so badly he could hardly stand to be in his own company. Maybe it was a good thing Jack didn't have a cellmate.

The guards that oversaw his feeding by Tish had fiercely discouraged conversation, but she had managed to tell him that the Doctor was no worse off than he had been. He was still aged and the Master had him sleeping in a tent on the floor of the conference room. Jack wondered what he could do to help them all. This is what he did for people now -- he figured out how he could help them. The guards had shushed Tish before she could tell him if there was any word on his team.

Jack was alone with his own thoughts again. He rattled the chains on his wrists and wondered what his team would think of him now. He was chained and helpless with no clear idea of what to do to fix things. Tosh would stare helplessly at him with her wide and trusting eyes. Owen would scoff and throw snide comments his direction. Gwen would rail at him. Ianto would…Ianto would stand silently at his back, hold his coat out for him and assure his Captain with a silent strength that he would figure something out in time.

Okay, knowing Ianto? He'd insist Jack shower first, save the world later.

Heavy footfalls sounded over the hum of the Valiant's engines and Jack stirred from his reverie. He saw several of the Master's storm troopers stalk down the corridor and it made him curious. Behind them, looking like he was dancing down the hallway was the Master himself, decked out in a tuxedo. The sight was absurd.

The guards held open the chain link gate of his own little cell and the Master danced in to stand before him.

"Jacky-boy!" The Master cried as if Jack was a long lost friend come to visit. "Sorry I've been such a poor host. It's been a busy week." His voice became strangely conversational. "Culling the human herd, taking over the world, you know. You know how it is. Didn't want you to think I'd forgotten you, though. I've blocked out my whole entire afternoon so I could spend it with you. Just you and me, Jacky-boy!"

"No need to go to any effort on my account." Jack matched his tone to the Master's manic one. "If you're busy, I have some things I can do elsewhere. I'll just go now and come back in another couple of centuries," Jack said with a wide smile and a cheeky wink.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Captain Jack! We're going to get to know one another a little bit better," the Master said as he moved closer to Jack, standing just centimeters away.

"I'm a Taurus, I like poetry and long walks on the beach. There, you know me a little better. I'll be going now." Jack raised one eyebrow and held his hands palm up as if expecting to be unchained.

The Master grasped Jack's chin and squeezed, forcing his lips into a purse. "Oh, that's not the kind of trivial information I want to know," he said, pursing his own lips and leaning closer so that Jack had a brief moment to wonder if he was about to be kissed. "I want to know something more personal. More intimate," the Master said, looking only at Jack's mouth.

"Such as?" Jack asked with feigned casualness.

At a signal Jack didn't see, several guards moved to take hold of him. They unchained him only long enough to remove his shirts, careful never to release him completely. When they re-shackled him he was naked from the waist up. Jack held the Master's gaze steadily and used all of his composure not to show his discomfort. He ignored the streak of self-consciousness that coiled in his gut. Jack had used this tactic to start to break someone down. He could resist this, no problem.

Jack wasn't ready for a knife blade to be drawn across his ribs. He hissed sharply and pulled back reflexively from the pain before he could stop himself. Anxiety spiked through him like a lightening bolt.

"How long does it take you to bleed to death, Jack?" the Master asked, his face alight with his deranged smile.

"It doesn't take me any longer than anyone else." Jack tried to use a light tone.

"But I bet with you I can drag it out, make it last. How long do you think I can make it last, Jack?" the Master asked with quiet glee. "How many shallow cuts can I make in sensitive body parts before you finally expire?"

Jack couldn't muster a smile and that was a skill that didn't usually fail him. He tried not to flinch when he felt the second cut slice along his ribcage on the opposite side. "I'd rather not find out, if it's all the same to you."

The next cut was long but shallow and ran from his right wrist halfway to his elbow. He clenched his jaw and managed not to utter a sound but couldn't stop the flinch of his arm. He could feel the blood running down both sides of his ribcage as if it were rivulets of sweat. Jack turned his head slightly, he could see the blood beginning to run down his wrist and drip to the floor. He didn't like to watch himself bleed. It always meant pain and death.

While Jack was focused on the right wrist, the Master drew his blade sharply along the left. He flinched and hissed this time, pissed off at the sharp pain. He growled deep in his chest as the ache in his wrists grew. Jack kept his jaw clenched and his lips pressed firmly together. Damned if he was going to let his pain show.

Jack rolled his eyes toward the ceiling when the Master unfastened Jack's belt and fly. He wanted his expression to appear disinterested but Jack had a feeling he'd failed. "You're bleeding, Jack," he said, once again centimeters from Jack's face and smiling his deranged smile. "Can't let you get blood on your trousers! They're the only pair you have."

"Then why don't you let me down and stop slicing me up?" Jack felt his trousers pool around his ankles and he felt that much more vulnerable. He kept his eyes on the ceiling as he felt a sharp pain along his inner thigh, followed by warm blood trickling down toward his knee. The loud groan slipped between his lips before he could stop it.

"Are you keeping count, Jack?" the Master asked, his smile gone but the evil glint in his eyes was still present.

"No," Jack bit out. He realized the Master was escalating the game.

The Master sliced through Jack's other thigh. "Six, Jack. That makes six."

Jack held the Master's gaze and pretended he wasn't trembling.

"Say it, Jack," the Master demanded.

Jack was determined to deny the Master his submission but he gave up when the nails of one of the Master's hands grasped his wrist and dug roughly into the wound there.

Jack said grudgingly, through clenched teeth, "Six."

The Master roughly grasped Jack's jaw and placed a hard kiss on his lips. Their lips were sill pressed together when Jack felt the knife being drawn across his chest, just above his nipple. The Master drank in the groan of pain Jack couldn't stifle.

The Master pulled his mouth from Jack's and slid the knife across the other side of his chest. Jack growled. "How many, Jack?"

"Eight!" he whispered grudgingly.

"That's right!" The Master stood back to admire his handiwork and Jack watched in sick fascination as he raised a hand to smear blood along the knife blade. "So symmetrical. So beautiful in your symmetry, Jack," the Time Lord breathed admiringly.

The Master stepped forward again and circled around behind Jack. "You there!" Jack heard him say and assumed he had spoken to one of the guards. "He's about to bleed on his trousers, get all of his clothes out of there."

Jack's boots were removed along with the remainder of his clothing, and in just a few moments he stood completely naked. All the others in his cell were still fully dressed and Jack had never felt so exposed. It frustrated him that he had no control over his situation.

The Master grabbed Jack's arse cheek. "Nice!" he heard the Master breathe just over his shoulder. "Shapely and firm!"

"That describes most everything about me," Jack quipped. Humor usually masked fear and pain.

The Master's answer was to draw the blade deeply along the arse cheek. Jack rocked forward away from the sharp pain. No sooner had he resumed his original hanging position than the Master sliced through his other buttock. "Fuck!" Jack barked, frustrated to have given the Master even that much of a reaction.

"Not today I think, Jacky-boy!" The Master said as he rested his chin on Jack's shoulder. "I'm rather enjoying bleeding you slowly." He put actions to words and drew his blade across one of Jack's thick back muscles.

Jack twisted in his chains. He had to avoid the pain. "Goddamnit!" he swore loudly.

"Not quite, Jack! But close!" The blade sliced through the other thick muscle of Jack's back. "Say my name, Captain!"

"Fuck you!" Jack battled his restraints and the Master's attempt to control his emotions, his reactions.

"I said not today!" the Master shouted, slicing deeply through the muscle on the back of Jack's arm.

Jack cried in pain even though he desperately didn't want to.

"Say my name!" Pain ripped through Jack's scalp when the Master grasped his hair and yanked his head back.

Jack felt the Master slice through his other arm with one clean, searing motion. He yelled loudly again and continued to thrash in his chains. The Master could have his cries but Jack would not speak the name.

Jack sensed the Master's growing frustration at his defiance and he wondered how far he could push this. He stepped around Jack's body so they were again face–to-face. "Say my name," the Master whispered against Jack's parted lips. "And I'll kill you quickly."

Jack made no reply but continued to hold the Master's gaze with heavy lidded eyes. Relief washed through him for a brief moment. Control and an end to his torment were within his reach. Jack was tempted to give in and say it. It was such an easy thing to do, just say what the Master wanted him to say. A wave of nausea overtook him and his resolve faltered.

Jack watched warily as the Master leaned in close, until he felt the Time Lord's breath as it chased along his cheek. The point of the knife pressed into the skin of his throat just below his jaw and Jack swallowed reflexively. The Master's lips brushed along the shell of his ear, "Just think, Captain. You and I have forever to play our little games. There is no limit to the things I can do to you. No limit to the number of times we can play." Anguish rushed through Jack because the Master could do this -- over and over again.

Jack felt the blade slide through the skin of his neck. He was at war with himself, conflicted by his desire to just give the Master what he was demanding and by his need to stay strong and resist. Jack squeezed his eyes closed and clenched his teeth. He felt his breath move in and out harshly. The Master continued to slide the point of the knife toward Jack's collarbone. He felt his skin slowly parting under the blade's progress, blood trickling freely from the ever-growing wound. The pain pushed him closer to giving in.

The Master pressed his hot mouth to Jack's lips and lingered. He felt the Time Lord's tongue sweep along his lower lip and disgust rocketed through him. When the Time Lord pulled back, Jack wished he could wipe his mouth. "You are so beautiful covered in your own blood. Do you know that, Jack?" The knife continued its slow, tortuous descent toward his chest, the cut became deeper as it progressed. "I can stop the pain, Captain. All you have to do is say my name."

Jack clung desperately to his defiance. He felt the knife leave his neck, only to be placed on the other side of his throat. The slow movement started again and his skin was sliced open once again. He could handle the pain. He was sure he could. "I love the sight of your body streaked with blood, Jack. Let me hear you say my name in that low, husky voice of yours and I can make the pain stop."

Jack continued to clench his teeth tightly and waited to bleed out. He was a victim of his own pride as well as the Master's machinations. His stubborn pride kept him denying the truth of his hopeless situation.

Jack danced away from the sudden pain when The Master plunged the blade point deep into his side. He was so surprised that his eyes widened in shock.

"Who am I, Captain?" the Master spit in his face, eyes ablaze with his insanity.

"You're the crazy fucker who has to stick a knife in me cause he's too afraid to show me his tiny dick!" Jack gasped, but he knew his voice sounded too weak to be threatening. "Hurting me won't change the fact you ran from the Dalek Emperor."

Jack knew he'd gone too far when the Master's mouth twisted in fury and he plunged the knife into his other side. This time the Master gave it a twist before pulling it free with a strangled cry.

Jack regretted his insolence and gave an inarticulate yell. He nearly collapsed with blood loss and fear.

"Say my name!" the Master shouted in Jack's face as he reached around and sank the knife into his back, piercing a kidney.

Jack screamed and it sounded desperate to his own ears. This time his knees gave way completely. Calling the Master out on his cowardice at the Cruciform had unleashed a dragon.

The Master wrapped his arms around Jack's chest and gave comfort that Jack was sure was insincere. The Master patted the top of his head and placed a deceptively tender kiss on his cheek. "Say my name, Jack." He felt the Master's lips against his ear.

"Why?" Jack gasped, his vision grayed around the edges. "You're going to kill me anyway." He was disgusted by the intimacy of the Master's touch.

"We could drag this out for hours or you could say my name and I'll drive the knife right into your heart and it will all be over," the Master whispered against Jack's sweaty temple.

"It'll end the same either way, so go fuck yourself." Jack sensed movement from the Master so he was ready when the knife was plunged into the other side of his back and sliced through his second kidney. His blood flowed freely, the iron smell sharp in his nose and mouth.

Jack hung heavily between his restraints. He'd lost too much blood to remain standing. He almost couldn't feel the strain in his shoulders over the burning pain of all his knife wounds.

"How many times have I cut you?" the Master yelled into Jack's face.

"Eighteen," Jack whispered.

"Who has cut you eighteen times?" the Master asked in a singsong voice.

"Some needle dick fucker who can't meet me in a fair fight." Jack struggled to make his voice audible. He was rewarded with the searing pain of the Master's knife dragging up his groin, just beside his now-shriveled penis. There was little more the Time Lord could do to make Jack's suffering worse, so he refused to pull his punches.

"I'm offering kindness if you'll just do me one small favor and yet, you still resist."

"Bastard," Jack said, barely conscious now. He hardly felt the knife cut along his groin. He wasn't going to break, no matter how scared he felt, no matter how much pain the Master inflicted.

"No," the Master said softly, "not even close."

"Doesn't matter." Jack's speech was slurred. "Dying."

The last thing Jack heard the Master say was, "You don't get to die, Jack Harkness!" I get to kill you." He sank his blade through Jack's sternum and right into his heart, temporarily ending the torment.

………………………………………………………

Day 6

Jack awoke to Martha's mother, Francine, kneeling over him. He lay where he had fallen when he'd been unchained and his dead body had fallen to the floor, naked and bloody. Francine knelt beside him, a bowl of warm water beside her as she cleaned away the dried blood from his body. He lifted his head and saw that his clothes lay in a heap next to her. Ianto would have been disgusted at the sight. The thought brought a small smile to Jack's lips.

"Stay still, Captain." Francine continued to run the wet cloth over the streaks of dried blood that covered his still-naked body. "I only have a little time to get you cleaned up and dressed."

"Thank you, Francine," Jack said, sitting up to give her better access to the rest of his body. She had nice hands. She was firm but gentle and his heart warmed at the kind human contact.

Martha's mother kept her eyes discretely averted from his more intimate parts as she efficiently cleaned him up. Just like a mom. Jack allowed himself another small smile and was grateful he could find any good thoughts at all.

"I thought you were dead when he first sent me to you," Francine said.

"I was." Jack couldn't meet her eyes. He feared he'd see the accusation of 'freak' there.

"I was afraid you were going to say that," she replied. "I guess nothing should surprise me anymore."

Jack stood as he returned more to himself. Francine gave him her back while he dressed.

"I have to tell the guards you're awake, so they can chain you again," she said regretfully.

"I understand," he said. "You do what you have to do. Don't give him a reason to hurt you." She was such a kind woman, and Jack would feel awful if anything happened to her because of him.

Without looking back, Francine left his cage and the guards took this as their cue to enter and secure Jack to the walls.

………………………………………………………………………..

Day 8

Jack wasn't sure how long it had been since Tish had been in with his morning meal. He wished he got three meals a day just so he could have more human contact. He dozed on his feet and tried to pretend the heat and humidity weren't laying on him like a heavy blanket. Jack's joints ached.

He lifted his head and cracked an eye at the sound of his cell door opening. Jack was consumed by dread as a group of guards entered and crossed toward him.

One of the guards handed his weapon to a compatriot and began to unbutton Jack's shirt.

"All you had to do was ask," Jack quipped. "I don't usually need dinner before a shag but a drink would at least be polite, don't you think?

The guard's face remained impassive. Jack felt a cold metal band secured around his bicep just above his elbow. He was decidedly uncomfortable as he was pushed around. In Jack's experience, this type of thing always ended with him helplessly screaming and writhing in pain while someone else happily looked on.

When Jack was again naked from the waist up, a second cuff was locked around his other arm. "Bondage, gentlemen? I really should at least get a decent meal out of this."

One of the guards behind him roughly pulled Jack's elbows backward as far they would go and secured the two metal bands together. The new, extreme position strained his already protesting shoulder joints. Jack felt the first stirrings of vulnerability as his naked chest was thrust forward to accommodate the position of his arms.

The guard in front of him unfastened Jack's trousers and pushed them down over his hips. "Like what you see, boys?" Jack directed the question to everyone in the room. He got no response, but he hadn't expected one. Jack's attempts at humor were for his own benefit.

Before Jack could think of another quip, a rag was shoved into his mouth, secured by a strip of duct tape. A black hood was shoved over his head, blocking out all light and muffling sound. Jack was forced to his knees. He heard the guards move around and the sound of chains before something was secured to the cuffs and his elbows were drawn up painfully toward the ceiling. Jack groaned at the pain and recognized the classic stress position. He was relieved that his gag muffled his groan. He heard the guards depart, leaving Jack feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Time passed. Jack heard people walking by. He knew full well they had a clear view of his exposed position as they came and went. Jack usually liked being the center of attention, but this time he had no choice in the matter or the circumstances. Each time he tried to relax he would begin to tilt forward, adding to the strain on his shoulders.

Jack heard the cell door open. A chill ran down his spine when he heard the Master's voice. "Oh, aren't you just beautiful! You should see yourself, Captain. Maybe I'll take pictures to show you yourself when you come back to life this time."

Jack shuddered at the thought of what he looked like and what the Master had planned for him this go-round. He heard the demented man's steps as he moved around Jack's naked form. "You are such a lovely plaything, Jack. So delightful."

Jack heard the sizzle of skin before he felt the sharp pain on his chest just above his nipple. The rag in his mouth muffled his surprised shout. Jack tried to move away from the source of his pain but he was hindered by his restraints. His hood didn't block the scent of burning tobacco and scorched flesh and Jack's stomach turned. Regretful memories of the times he had done this very thing to others added to his own torment.

"How long does it take you to heal, Jack?" the Master asked, almost conversationally. "Oh! That's right. I ordered you gagged. Maybe that was a bad idea. I do so love the look of your mouth. Such a sweet taste, too."

Jack was grateful his position masked the shiver of revulsion that passed through his body at the intimate tone in the Master's voice.

The smell of his own flesh burning assailed his nostrils, and Jack unwillingly thrashed against his chains. There was nothing for it but to endure. His own helplessness frustrated him. He was angry with himself for letting the Master get him into this position. He was angry that he was so fucking helpless to stop him.

"Oh, Jack! You really should see how beautifully the muscles of your stomach clench and ripple with the pain," the Master crowed. "You are beautiful. Truly beautiful."

Again he felt the cigarette pressed to the sensitive flesh of his belly and he growled into his gag. Jack had no time to recover before he felt the scorch of the butt higher up on his ribs.

"No sign of healing yet, Captain! How disappointing," the Master pressed the burning butt to Jack's chest again. "If you don't heal properly, this isn't going to be nearly as fun." Jack heard the Time Lord sigh.

The sound of feet moving toward the cell door gave Jack hope that his torture was over. He couldn't believe it could be this easy, though. "I'll just give you some time to heal yourself up, Captain. I'll be back later to take up where we left off. Ta for now!"

Jack's relief was short-lived as he realized the Time Lord was going to drag this out for a long time. That's what he would have done as well. Jack relaxed into his restraints. There was no way out of this for him. He was going to suffer the Master's cruelty as often as the Time Lord wanted, and there was no one to help him. Footfalls came and went outside of his cell, but no one came to help Jack. No one was there to cut him down, to touch him, or to talk to him. He was going to suffer alone.

Jack's thoughts wandered back to those he had treated in this manner, once upon a time. Not that there was much difference, no real excuse, but at least his victims had been able to stop the torture by giving over the information he'd been after. Jack knew the Master wanted nothing from him but his suffering.

Jack had no idea how much time had passed when he heard the cell door open again. He was strangely relieved that he wasn't alone any longer.

"Look at you, Jack! No sign of any healing. I'm disappointed. You really should be careful in the future not to disappoint me like this."

The pain was sharp and immediate on Jack's inner thigh. The pain of the cigarette burn was bad enough on the other parts of his body, it was much more excruciating on the tender skin of his bare thigh. "Your thighs quiver as beautifully as your belly does. You've actually got fairly decent muscle tone, Captain. You are probably my sexiest captive ever."

Jack was ready for any touch to be painful, so he flinched when the Master's hand slid softly over his cock as it hung limply between his legs. He silently berated himself for being so easily manipulated. Jack hated the Master's intimate touch as much as he hated the pain of the burns. The touch on his cock was by no means arousing. There was no safe word to utter. The first rule had been broken long ago and blood had been drawn without his consent. No, nothing arousing about this at all.

"Time for my coffee break!" Jack heard Master move toward the door. "I'll be back in a bit for some more fun."

Jack was alone again with his thoughts. He knew he had to hang on. He knew he had to believe in the Doctor and in Martha. They hadn't even been able to make an escape attempt yet. He had to hang on.

In counterpoint to the stifling humidity of his cell, he took himself back to Cardiff in his mind. Cold and perpetually wet Cardiff, Wales.

The cold breeze blew in off the bay. The gentle mist of water droplets from the tower showered Jack as he stood on the invisible lift. Rain. Rain ran down the collar of his coat and saturated his shirt.

Soft, gentle hands adjusted his coat to inhibit the water. The shoulders of his beloved greatcoat were adjusted for him, allowing it to settle more snugly around him. The same gentle hands brushed droplets from his hair in an affectionate if useless gesture.

Ianto. Cool blue eyes. Smooth, pale skin.

The young man certainly wouldn't admire his Captain now, would he?

Jack was jolted back to reality by the sudden removal of the hood. He blinked painfully at the glare of the lights. The return of his sight weakened him with relief. He'd been so deep in his own thoughts that he hadn't heard the Master enter, but his relief was short-lived. It was immediately replaced by a sense of dread at what the Master had planned for him. The tape was ripped painfully from his mouth and the rag removed. Jack's mouth was dry as cotton and he was shocked to feel a bottle of cool water placed to his lips, an unexpected kindness. He drank greedily as the Master stared down at him. Jack wondered if the kindness had a price.

"I'd be willing to let you down, Captain. You still owe me a favor, though," the Master said smugly as he strolled lazily around Jack's suspended body.

Jack stared at a spot on the floor in front of him rather than answer. A harsh slap to his face had him glowering at the Time Lord. He saw the second blow coming but was powerless to avoid it. His head snapped to the side and the jolt shot pain through his entire body.

"Come on, Jacky-boy! Say what I want to hear and I'll take you down out of your shackles. You can even have a good meal and all the water you can drink." The Master crouched before Jack and stroked gentle fingers along his face. "Just one word, Jack. Two easy syllables."

Jack stared back at the Master but refused to speak a single word. He saw only evil in the Time Lord's eyes and Jack knew his pride was getting him in deeper.

The Master took Jack's face between both of his hands and tilted it up. The first press of lips was soft and almost pleasant. The sweep of the Master's warm tongue along his lower lip was pleasurable. Then Jack gave himself a mental kick for turning to the Master for anything that resembled pleasure or comfort. Instead, he reminded himself of several heated encounters he'd had with Ianto. His own actions had mirrored those of the Master as he'd grasped Ianto's face and raised it up to accept his own kiss. Jack's motivations had been worlds apart from the Master's, and Ianto's reactions had been a world apart from his own.

Jack forced his body to go limp as he felt the Master's tongue pass his lips and seek the taste of his mouth. He was prepared to endure pain and humiliation but he didn't know what to do about this sense of violation. In that moment, Jack learned it was possible to feel even dirtier.

"See how kind I can be to you, Jack?" the Master whispered against his lips. "Just say it and I'll be nothing but kind to you."

Jack looked the demented Time Lord in the eye, stiffened his spine, and said one word. "No."

Enraged, the Master stood and stalked around behind Jack. He had no time to react as the Time Lord placed his foot on Jack's back and pushed.

Jack screamed in agony and anger. His cries echoed off the corridor walls of the Valiant and he heard them as though they belonged to someone else. The pain in his shoulders rocketed through his entire body and he felt a rising tide of nausea. Jack sobbed once as he slipped into the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness.

……………………………………………………….

Rose's delighted girlish laughter at something the Doctor said echoed off the walls of the TARDIS. The Time Lord himself smirked. Jack laughed in delight at the happy tableau before him. He didn't need to know what it was they found so funny.

The inside of the TARDIS bled away to become the inside of the Hub. Gwen and Owen laughed hysterically at one of their own jokes that no one else was privy to. Jack watched from his desk as Tosh and Ianto exchanged a look and small smiles of their own as they indulged their more gregarious teammates. Ianto moved toward the stairs to the catwalk and only Jack saw the shuttered look the younger man threw his way before he mounted the steps. Jack watched him all the way around the upper level until he was out of sight.

……………………………………………………….

Jack was confused when he returned to consciousness. There was an unbearable pain in his shoulders, but he usually awoke fully healed. He took in his surroundings and realized his restrained position had held his shoulders out of joint and unable to heal. Jack groaned loudly and searched desperately for a way to ease his pain.

He didn't have much time to consider before the Master and a guard entered his cell. Jack was suddenly too exhausted to feel fear any longer. The only thing he felt now was resignation. He was resigned to his miserable fate.

The guard stepped around Jack as the Master stood before him smiling widely. Jack's arms were unexpectedly released from the ceiling. He was completely unprepared for the drop of his abused shoulders and he pitched forward to be caught up against the Master's chest. Jack's screams of agony were muffled in the Master's shirt as he held Jack to him like he would a frightened child. But Jack took no comfort from the touch of his tormentor.

"You are one very tough cookie, Jack Harkness," the Master cooed against his ear. "You have a choice to make." His voice took on a harder edge.

Jack's elbows were suddenly released from their shackles, the movement tearing another round of screams from his burning throat. He was oblivious to his own nudity and the Master's proximity; Jack was focused solely on enduring the pain in his shoulders.

"Pay close attention to me, Jack," the Master was saying. "Give me what I want now and I'll go easy on you from here on out."

Jack made no reply, as he lay against his torturer, cradled like a lover and unable to move away.

"If you continue to resist me, I'm going to have to continue thinking up fun games for us to play and I assure you, Captain, things will continue to get worse for you."

Jack closed his eyes against the thought. His thoughts raced back to the dream he'd had not long ago and knew what his team expected of him. Jack had to lead by example. He had to stay strong.

"So, say my name and let's be done with all this nonsense."

"Never," Jack vowed in a whisper against the Master's chest. He was pressed so closely to his tormentor's body that he caught the Time Lord's scent and the warmth of his body through his shirt. Jack struggled to not be overwhelmed by his senses and allow himself to receive comfort from the enemy.

The Master sighed heavily in disappointment. "You can't say I didn't warn you."

Jack was in so much pain already he hardly noticed the blade that was shoved deeply between his ribs and through to his heart.

………………………………………………………………

Jack was sure he was being dragged across broken glass as breath returned to his lungs with a harsh gasp. He'd been dragged across broken glass so he knew what it felt like. He flexed experimentally and found he was healed. God! How he hated those sensations. It never changed. Coming back from death always hurt like hell.

"Are you okay, Captain?" A soft feminine voice spoke above him.

Jack looked up into the pain-filled eyes of Tish Jones as she knelt beside him and wiped away the blood left from the killing blow of the knife between his ribs. "I'm fine, Tish. I'm fine," he reassured the young woman. "Thank you."

"You have to get dressed. They're going to be here any moment to chain you again," she said apologetically.

Jack looked over at the pile of filthy clothes. He really didn't want to put them back on, but the alternative held even less appeal. "It's okay, Tish. I expected as much. Thanks for your help."

"I think I'll get to come back soon with your evening meal," she said, gathering up her things to move toward the cell door.

Jack looked up and gave her a reassuring wink. "It's a date!"

……………………………………………………………..

Day 13

When Jack had dressed himself after the Master's last visit, he'd forgone his braces and hadn't bothered to fasten up his shirt again. The Master had promised return visits of increasing misery, so why bother, really?

Tish and Francine took turns bringing him meals, such as they were. They did their best to slip him information. They let him know that the Doctor's status remained unchanged. Rumors were circulating already about Martha's movements, but nothing was confirmed. No one had heard anything about his team, and Jack wasn't sure what to make of that. Mostly though, they brought him human contact and brief moments of companionship that he looked forward to.

The worst bit of intelligence they fed him was the progress of the Master's sick plan to dominate, control, and destroy the planet and all its inhabitants. The best bit of information they could pass to him was that the Master was deeply involved in the goings on with the planet, or the Toclafane, and most likely had forgotten about Jack for the time being.

In dark moments when Jack had been alone for long hours, he wondered idly who else might have forgotten about him. The lack of information about Martha and his team was matched only by lack of word from the Doctor. Jack desperately needed to know what the Doctor's plan was to stop the Master. He needed something constructive to focus on, he needed something to plan. Jack had a sinking feeling that he might have been forgotten again. He couldn't help but fear the Doctor was formulating a plan for escape and wasn't feeding word of it to Jack. He didn't fancy being left behind yet again.

Jack gave himself a mental shake and wiped those thoughts from his mind. He couldn't let himself think that way or he'd be lost.

Francine came to him this particular morning and her expression was dark. Jack feared the worst and it turned out he was right. The Master was edgy this morning. The events on the planet's surface weren't holding his attention and the Doctor was too passive to suit his fellow Time Lord's passions. Jack was most likely going to suffer a visit.

He thanked Francine and gave her a smile and a wink to try to ease the burden she must have felt at bringing him the news. There was no one to ease Jack's burden of the Master's impending visit.

…………………………………………………………..

Jack couldn't relax. He couldn't retreat into one of his semi-alert states. He couldn't find his way into the depths of his own mind like he had been for the past several days. His memories had been acting as his comfort and his refuge, but today, knowing the Master was most likely going to pay him a visit, nothing seemed to offer an escape.

Jack was fully aware when the Master bounced into his cell, accompanied by his usual contingent of guards. Under any other circumstances and perhaps a more sane look in his eyes, he could have been one of Jack's mates come to share a pint.

"Jack!" the Master cried with a wide smile, coming to stand before him. "It's been so long. Have you missed me?"

"Did you go somewhere?" Jack asked with the same vein of sarcasm.

"We're going to have a great time today, Captain. Simply a delightful time." The Master clapped his hands together with glee.

Per usual, the set of guards surrounded Jack and he felt himself unchained and undressed. "We really have to quit meeting this way, fellas! You know all about me but I know nothing at all about any of you."

Jack was shackled hand and foot this time. His feet were spread and his arms were extended and secured to the ceiling. He was stretched up tightly. Once again his naked body was at the mercy of the Master's view and whims.

A knife. It occurred to Jack that this knife was a terribly archaic weapon for a Time Lord. Then again, perhaps that was the point. It was a very old way of killing and it required a certain amount of physical strength, proximity, and intimacy. Jack had once been feared for his skill with the close-up kill.

The Master wielded the knife, and Jack's tricep burned as the Time Lord drew the point of the blade from his elbow to his shoulder. He forced back a reaction to the searing pain. He stared straight ahead and pretended not to be bothered by the pain as the Master sliced through the skin around his entire arm. A second matching one was cut just above his shoulder. Jack watched from the corner of his eye as the Master stood back to admire his handiwork. Jack's heart was in his throat as the Time Lord smiled at him and ran a finger through the blood streaming along the his skin. "You bleed beautifully," the Master said softly, staring at Jack's blood on his fingers almost reverently. The arousal he saw in the Master's eyes sickened Jack. He kept his eyes averted when the Master licked Jack's blood from his fingers, his obvious enjoyment sickening.

The skin of Jack's arm was flayed from his body. He groaned harshly once again but couldn't evade his tormentor.

"You know what they say about beauty only being skin deep, Jack?" the Master taunted him. "Time to see just how deep your beauty is."

Jack gasped when the knife was drawn down his ribcage. "Fuck!" He shouted when the blade cut through the flesh securing his skin to his body. Pain seared through the flesh of his side. Over and over the Master sliced through Jack's flesh and pulled back the skin as he went. Jack felt himself flayed along his back toward his spine. "Jesus…fuck…." He shouted again as he felt the flap of skin cut away from his body.

His back burned and blood ran down along his skin. Even Jack wouldn't do this to another person.

"Oh, well would you look at that!" The Master enthused. "It looks like even your beauty runs only skin deep, Captain."

"Oh, admit it! You still think I'm cute!" Jack bit out and struggled in his bonds. He fell back on his humor to try easing his own fear and pain.

"Have you forgotten our agreement, Jack?" the Master grasped Jack's face and forced him to meet his eyes. "It only takes one word. One specific word to make me stop."

"Yeah, yeah." Jack chided breathlessly. "Cause you're so fucking trustworthy."

"You wound me!" the Master scoffed. He reached up with the knife and drew it down Jack's uninjured tricep.

Jack sucked his breath in through his teeth. The Master was adept with the knife and in mere seconds, Jack's arm was sliced in the same manner as his first. He started to bury his forehead against his other arm but stopped himself in horror when he saw the raw and bloody flesh. This arm was already missing its skin.

Jack felt the Master deftly move the blade around until the skin of his arm came free. Both of his arms were on fire. He refused to look at himself. Surely if he didn't look, couldn't see what was being done to him that meant it really wasn't happening.

"What's my name, Jack?" the Master asked angrily as he stood in front of him licking Jack's blood from the blade.

"No!" Jack hissed and pressed his lips together tightly.

The Master dragged the knife along Jack's lower belly, just above his groin from hip to hip. He forced himself to look up at the ceiling and bite down on his lips so he didn't have to watch the Time Lord cut away the skin of his belly.

Jack was sick with pain and blood loss. His knees were weak but he refused to let the Master see that weakness. Pride fueled stubbornness ruled Jack now. The blood from the flaying of his stomach coursed down his genitals and thighs.

"Jack?" the Master asked lightly.

"No."

The Master stepped around and slit through Jack's ribs. He couldn't hold back his scream at the feeling of his back skin being pulled away from his body.

Jack gave into the wave of weakness and let his knees buckle. He found that place deep inside himself that he went to during the worst of times. He began to wonder how Owen would deal with these wounds if he'd had to.

Dr. Owen Harper, Torchwood Medical Officer. Owen, who hid behind snide comments and his biting wit in an effort to hide the frightened boy that lived at his core. Owen, who pretended to despise treating patients all the while he fought with every fiber of his being to keep those in his care alive and healthy. Owen, who lost himself in the bodies of strange men and women because he didn't think he was worthy of being loved. Owen, who always came through with a bloody brilliant idea in the eleventh hour and saved lives and often the world. Broken hearted Owen who had led the mutiny against Jack to foolishly open the rift. Contrite Owen who had cried in his arms when he heard Jack forgive him.

He dreamed of what it would be like to have Owen's hands gently treating his damaged body. The soothing compounds Owen would place on his wounds and the delightful drugs he'd pump into Jack to ease the pain and induce sleep. What he wouldn't give for Owen's gentle touch and rough demeanor.

Jack was dragged back into reality when a hand gripped his hair and yanked his head backward straining his neck.

"Where do you go, Jack?" the Master yelled against his ear. "Where do you go when you try to avoid me?"

Jack refused to answer. He closed his eyes and tried to return to that place where Owen could ease his pain.

"Captain, I asked you a question!" The Master demanded his attention back again. "Where do you go that you can escape me?"

"You wouldn't understand," Jack choked out. The Master knew about his team, knew they existed. To admit whom he dreamed of in order to survive would arm the Time Lord with dangerous knowledge. It would doom his team if ever the Master got his hands on one of them.

"I'm going to have to work a little harder to make it more difficult for you to get there," the Master sighed.

He made good on his threat and carved a large hunk of skin from one of Jack's buttocks. Jack cried out in response to let the Master know he was in the moment, that he was paying attention. The knife sliced through his other buttock and left the muscle raw and bare. Blood ran down Jack's body as pain coursed through him. He could smell his own fear and his own blood and it served to add to his torment.

Jack writhed in pain and pulled against his restraints as the Master knelt to flay first one thigh and then the other. He caught sight of his own form in between tortured, inarticulate screams and was disgusted by what he saw. Some part of him was also amazed that he could survive this level of violence.

Jack's body and soul were raw. His skin had been removed from all the parts of his body except his penis. His blood coursed down the entire length of him. Jack knew he resembled something he and his team had seen at Brecon Beacons and it horrified him. He had been disfigured, as if the pain wasn't enough of a torture.

"I was wrong, Jack," the Master said as he stood before him again. "You are beautiful beyond your skin. You are gorgeous without your skin. It turns me on to see you bleed from my handiwork. What do you think of that, Jack?" the Master asked against Jack's lips, hand fondling his shriveled cock.

"Fuck you," Jack whispered. He was weak from blood loss and his words lacked any power, but he spit them out defiantly anyway. Any strength that might have found their way to his words was negated by the niggling sense of shame at his own damn helplessness.

"I think we'll save that for next time." The Master said quietly and Jack's fear swelled. He felt the deranged Time Lord pulling on his unresponsive penis and Jack shivered in disgust. "For now, though I just want to get myself off as I watch you hang from your shackles and suffer," the Master finished.

Jack watched the Master take himself out of his trousers and begin to pull. The Time Lord was aroused by his blood and pain, and Jack was frightened beyond words at the combined implication of that fact and the Master's words. There was something about him that aroused the Master in the sickest way possible and Jack was ashamed. He had brought this down on himself.

"I'm going to come just at the sight of you bleeding all over the floor, Jack. If you say my name and make me come right away, I'll go easier on you when next we meet."

Jack closed his eyes and sank into his bonds. He wanted the pain now. He wanted the pain in his arms and his skinless body to plunge him into the relief of dark nothingness. He heard the Master's heavy breathing as he stroked himself. Jack kept his eyes shut and just tried to wait until the entire ordeal was over. In front of him, the Master moaned and whispered dirty things that turned Jack's stomach as they all had to do with how excited he was by the sight of Jack's skinless, naked form.

Relief washed through Jack so strong he nearly cried as he heard the Master come into his own fist. It would be over soon.

"Next time, Jack," The Master whispered, a hair's breadth from Jack's lips. "You won't be given an opportunity to avoid me."

Jack never thought he'd ever be so happy to feel his throat being cut.


	2. Chapter 2

Day 20

Francine entered Jack's cell with his evening meal. She gave him as wide a smile as she dared. It had been good news for several days running and Jack felt somewhat lighter of heart himself.

"I think you're safe for at least another several days," Francine said as she spoon-fed Jack. "He's occupied with some sort of weapon he's building. The Toclafane keep bringing him information and he keeps sending them back out. There are rumors of Martha's movements he keeps trying to pin down, but so far she's managed to evade him."

"Good girl," Jack said quietly.

"He's burning parts of the planet," Francine whispered. "He's watching as the planet burns."

"Be strong, Francine," Jack said to her in a low voice. "For Martha."

She nodded, tears swimming in her eyes as she continued to feed him his tasteless meal.

 

Day 25

Jack had exactly four days of peace before the Master paid him another visit. Tish had warned him that morning to expect the worst, so he was resigned when the Time Lord waltzed into his cell dressed in tight slacks and a shirt unfastened down to his waist.

The Master strolled up to Jack and ran a hand over his chest, letting it slide intimately over his belly. Jack pulled back as far as he could in disgust.

"Now see, Jack," the Master said lightly as he moved around to stand behind him. "That is what we have to keep from happening." He leaned against Jack's back and whispered into his ear, "I think you need the proper motivation to behave like a good boy."

A wall-mounted monitor that Jack had never before seen activated suddenly flashed to life. Two figures, difficult to distinguish, were roughly forced into a small room. They both shouted obscenities, struggling with their captors, and Jack's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as recognition dawned. The two figures where shoved into kneeling positions facing the camera and guns were placed to their heads.

Jack recognized Gwen and Owen.

"Yes, Jack. I caught myself half of your precious little team." The Master moved to stand beneath the monitor. "I have Fred and Daphne in my tender care. Wait, maybe you're Fred. Would that make Dr. Harper Shaggy? No. No, the good doctor is your Scooby Doo." He turned to Jack and ran the backs of his fingers along his cheek. Jack felt himself flinch. "It took me less than a month to get my hands on these two. Now that I have them, how long do you think it will take them to lead me to the other two?"

"That won't be as easy as you might think," Jack said in proud defiance. With any luck his smile annoyed the Time Lord.

The Master stood behind Jack and ran his hands along the Captain's buttocks. "They serve a dual purpose, though," he said quietly. "They're going to ensure your cooperation."

"You have me chained between two walls. I'm about as cooperative as anyone can be," Jack said tiredly.

"No, Jack. You're only as cooperative as the chains make you. In here," the Master tapped Jack's forehead, "you still resist me."

"And how will my team change that?" Jack asked, fearing the answer that some part of him already knew.

"A bullet to the brain," the Master provided quietly. "You can't be threatened with death. But you can be threatened with the loss of one of their lives unless you stop pulling away from me. Trying to evade my touch."

Cold fingers of terror walked their way down Jack's spine. "Fine," he capitulated. "You don't need to hold guns to them anymore." He would rather fight his way to freedom and fight his way to his team. That wasn't going to happen, so Jack would do what he had to do. He just hoped once the Master told him what he had to do he wouldn't regret this decision.

"But we're interrogating them. Breaking them down until they give up your other two kiddies."

Jack was torn between his fear that Tosh and Ianto would fall into the Master's hands and his desire for Gwen and Owen to save themselves the rough treatment the Master was bound to inflict.

Jack remained silent, so the Master delivered the bad news. "You're going to suck my cock as if you love it, Jack. The first hint of resistance or revulsion and Dr. Harper gets a bullet to the brain. Any attempt to harm me with hands or teeth and bye-bye PC Cooper."

Jack's mouth went dry and he kept his eyes on the monitor as Gwen and Owen were brutalized after each refused to answer question after question. He quickly realized no real lasting damage was done, but the guns were never secured and remained always in the vicinity of their heads. Jack didn't want to do what the Master said, but he was going to save Gwen and Owen. If sucking the Master off was what he had to do, so be it.

"Alright," Jack heard himself say. "Make them stop hurting my team and I'll cooperate." He was still their leader and he was still responsible for them.

The Master nodded to one of his storm troopers and the man moved away to speak into a comm. Relief washed through him as Jack watched the men on the monitor cease manhandling Gwen and Owen They still didn't secure their guns, though.

Several guards moved to take Jack down from his restraints. They forced him to his knees and secured his hands at the small of his back. His legs were shackled and then secured to his wrists in traditional four-point restraint.

"Leave us," the Master told the guards. They filed out of Jack's cell.

The Time Lord took several steps forward until he stood just in front of Jack's kneeling form. Jack kept his eyes fixed on a point on the floor between them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Master run his fingers down along his own chest and stomach until they came to rest at the top of his fly.

"It's just you and me, Jack." The hand on his belt began to make a lazy trail back up the bare skin of his belly and chest before returning back to its resting place on his buckle. "I'll leave the monitor on so you can see I'm honoring my word to not harm your team as long as you're a good boy and please me. If you at any time fail to satisfy me, though…" He left the implication hanging between them.

Jack's only response was a small nod of his head. He'd endured worse for far less important reasons.

The Master took the final step forward so that the bulge inside his trousers nearly brushed Jack's face. He had no choice but to watch the Master unzip his fly and take himself out, letting the hard, heavy cock bounce obscenely between them. Jack knew what the Master wanted to make him feel but he couldn't help himself. Jack was embarrassed. His own helplessness and vulnerability were painful and too much to think about. He was ashamed that he would entice the Master to treat him this way and that he was actually had to perform this act.

"I suggest you start sucking, Captain."

Jack drew in a final breath and closed his eyes. He'd done this a million times, and he could do it now. He tried to block out the Master's presence, the feel of his body as it loomed over him as he took the cock into his mouth. In another time, another place, he might've done this willingly. But here and now it was repulsive, and it took all his skill to keep his wits – and his technique – intact.

"Very nice, Jack!" the Master said hoarsely. "Leave it to a freak to be able to suck a good dick."

Jack continued to slide his mouth up and down the offensive erection. He used no tricks, no fancy technique. He didn't want the Master to get any more pleasure than was absolutely necessary to keep Gwen and Owen safe. He was just about to put himself on autopilot and recede into the safe place in his mind when the Master grasped his head with both hands and roughly shoved his prick deep into Jack's mouth.

"You stay here with me, Captain! No running away to wherever it is you go," the Master ground out through clenched teeth as he thrust roughly in to Jack's mouth. "Open your eyes, Jack. Look at me while I fuck your mouth."

His spirits sank further, but Jack obeyed for the sake of his team. Had he been kneeling in front of Ianto, he never would have closed his eyes in the first place. On the contrary, he'd be watching every nuance of expression that crossed Ianto's face. Jack knew the effect his eyes had on his lovers when he looked up at them through his lashes so he withheld that from the Master. He opened his eyes and he looked but he didn't look like he would if this were Ianto.

Jack tried hard to relax his jaw and throat to accommodate the Master's abusive thrusts. He would not give the Time Lord the satisfaction of making Jack gag or choke. He would not show distress. He would not show discomfort. His pride demanded he didn't.

"You have a beautiful mouth when it's wrapped around a cock, Jack. But I imagine you already knew that, didn't you?" the Master taunted as he stared down at Jack, still gripping his head and thrusting his hips hard. "I think you're actually good at this," the Time Lord muttered, mostly to himself.

Jack relaxed into his task and tried to clear his mind. Each of the Master's thrusts sent the head of his cock down Jack's throat and the skin of his belly into Jack's face. He could smell the Time Lord's scent, feel his sweat. It turned his stomach and he almost gagged. He was not to let the Master see any discomfort and it had been made clear that any sign of revulsion would see Gwen and Owen punished. Jack would do this for them all the while knowing they could never see him doing it.

The Master however, was determined to see Jack's distress. He left one hand on the side of Jack's head to help guide his thrusts, while he snaked the other down to grasp Jack around the neck and squeeze. "I'm going to come in your mouth while you die, Captain."

Jack drew a breath through his nose. He struggled to accommodate the hard cock sliding down his throat. The Master tightened his grip on Jack's neck and he found it difficult to breathe. When he couldn't breathe it became harder for Jack to suck the Master's cock with any dignity. He started to make lewd sucking noises and wished he could stop.

Jack's vision swam with the effects of hypoxia. He felt the all too-familiar tingling of oxygen deprivation and he knew he was close to losing consciousness. He'd been strangled to death before. He'd been smothered and he'd been suffocated. He'd just never had to die before while a psychopath raped his mouth.

Jack's vision grayed and then he couldn't breathe at all. "I'm so close, Jack! I'm going to come!" the Master chanted as he continued to fuck Jack's face. "I'm going to come and you're going to die with my cock in your mouth."

As Jack lost consciousness he was grateful he only had to taste the first few drops of the Master's come before the world turned black.

 

Jack awakened later that afternoon already chained to the wall. He could taste the remains of the Master's semen. Some of it had dried on his face. He did what he could to wipe it off using his shoulder but he knew he hadn't cleaned it all and felt a vague sense of embarrassment, like, like a whore after a trick.

When Tish brought him his evening meal, she also brought a basin of water and cleaned him up the best she could. Jack wanted a shower desperately but it really didn't look like that was going to happen any time soon.

"Are Gwen and Owen okay?" he asked Martha's sister between bites of food.

"It seems so. He's bragging that he caught them, but not that he's harmed them." She met his gaze only furtively.

Jack sighed in relief. "Please keep an ear out for info on them, would you Tish?"

"Of course, Captain." She picked up the tray of empty dishes and turned to leave. "Please try to relax this evening, sir. You could use a little rest."

"I'll try, Tish. Thanks."

 

Day 26

The Master burst through the door of Jack's cell in an explosion of motion and sound. "Captain Jack!" he said loudly, arms open wide as if to bestow a hug and face contorted in a demonic grin. "I had so much fun yesterday I couldn't wait to come back."

"I'm sure you have more important things to do. Don't let me keep you." Jack's retort lacked his typical arrogance. He said the words more out of anxiety and habit than true defiance.

"I just couldn't stay away from you, Jack," the Master said in a low, gravelly voice. Jack saw lust in the Time Lord's eyes. "I woke in the middle of the night with a monstrous hard-on." The Master stood directly in front of him, grinding his body obscenely against Jack's. A whisper in his ear that might have been alluring from someone else left Jack feeling dirty. "I'd been dreaming of you, Jack…you and that beautiful mouth of yours wrapped around my cock. Lucy tried, she really did. It just wasn't the same."

Jack's eyes were drawn to the wall-mounted monitor as it flickered to life again. Gwen became visible, kneeling in a Spartan room, a gun once again pressed to the back of her head.

The Master pulled back from Jack and glanced at the monitor. "Your incentive for the day, Captain," he drawled. "Keeping little Gwenie alive."

"Have you hurt her?" Jack failed to disguise his fear as he watched the monitor, but Gwen appeared unharmed.

"No! Jack, I promised you," the Master said as he ran the backs of the fingers of one hand down Jack's cheek. "You pleased me greatly yesterday. I had no reason to harm either of your little kiddies."

Jack suppressed a shudder of revulsion and stopped himself from pulling away from the Master's touch. It was clear that yesterday's rules still applied. Not that Jack could trust the Master's word and that frightened him. His gut told him the Time Lord was bully. Bullies pushed weaker people around because they were scared and that made them dangerous. Bullies over-compensated for their own sense of inadequacy.

"Good," the Master said, placing a soft kiss on Jack's lips. "I see you're a fast learner, Captain."

The Time Lord turned toward his contingent of guards and gave a signal. They flooded the cell and surrounded Jack, reaching for his shackles.

"Here we are again, guys," Jack said to them with his usual humor, although this time it was forced.

They had their routine down by now. In mere minutes Jack was stripped naked and forced to his knees. This time, in addition to his four-point restraints, they added a cold metal collar. The chain of his restraints was secured to the ring at the back of the collar. Jack's chin was forced upward and his chest thrust out. The chain connected to his ankles, wrists and collar was so short that it arched his lower back and caused his hips to thrust forward. With his groin exposed and hanging vulnerably, Jack couldn't suppress a shiver of dread.

The guards filed out of the cell and the Master stood in front of Jack's body, running his fingers through Jack's hair. Calling up his last vestiges of defiance, Jack stared at a distant spot past the Master's hip.

The Time Lord slowly took the fly of his trousers down. He withdrew himself from his clothing and slapped Jack's cheek with his erection.

Jack was surprised by the degradation but he managed to hide it. He would allow himself to be debased for Gwen's sake.

The Master slapped Jack across the other cheek with his cock. He dragged it slowly from Jack's cheek, down his chin and across to the other cheek. "It's time, Jack."

He had no time to prepare before the Master shoved his cock past Jack's lips and forced it down to the back of his throat. Jack opened his mouth, praying he got his teeth out of the way in time. He couldn't help the choking and gagging sounds, and prayed that Gwen wouldn't suffer for his mistakes.

"I'm impressed, Jack. I thought sure I was going to feel teeth." The Master gripped Jack's head and roughly fucked his mouth as he had the day before. "I was so looking forward to a little bit of punishment for Ms. Cooper."

Jack's restraints held him fast. Any shift in position tugged on ankles or throat. He tried to ignore the physical discomfort, tried not to feel anything at all for what he was forced to do, or the person he was forced to do it to. Jack felt a swelling of pride when the Master praised him for his good behavior and pleasing technique. Jack was suddenly ashamed that he had taken pride in something so base.

The Master's skin tasted saltier than he was used to and his scent was muskier. It was made stronger by the Master's sweat slicked stomach as it collided rudely with Jack's face. He didn't fancy the Master's taste or smell. Jack heard his own breath, harsh in his ears. It was drowned out by the Master's loud gasps of pleasure. When the Time Lord pulled back suddenly Jack made a surprised, lewd sucking sound. A string of his saliva clung to them both, keeping them connected.

"Nice, Jack. Very nice," the Master cooed, running a hand over Jack's hair. "Now, ask me to let you have my cock again."

"No," he said, his voice soft but defiant. Jack clung desperately to that sense of defiance. He had suddenly reached his limit of what he thought he could do and endure, fervently hoping he hadn't doomed his team.

Pain. Hot, scorching pain ripped through Jack's body. His spine bowed, every muscle clenched and he screamed raggedly.

"Try again," the Master said, looking down at Jack with cold eyes.

"No," Jack repeated, but this time he knew what was coming.

His spine bowed as the electricity coursed through his body. Jack had been shocked before. He recognized the sensation.

"Tell me you want my cock."

This time Jack only shook his head slightly.

The Master clutched what appeared to be a miniature taser and when Jack refused to comply he applied the high voltage charge to the side of the metal collar. The charge leaped from the collar to his body, but it also ran down the attached chains to his wrists and ankles, too.

When the charge receded, it left Jack weak, and the pain lingered in his muscles and joints.

"Last chance, Jack. Ask me nicely to give you my cock again."

"Nuh uh," Jack whispered, unsteady on his knees. His eyes were hooded and his breath was coming in gasps. He braced for the next jolt to his neck but it didn't come. Instead a piercing scream issued from the monitor on the wall. Gwen.

Jack looked up abruptly and silently cursed himself for forgetting her. Her guard placed a stun gun between her shoulder blades. She arched backwards and screamed.

"Alright!" Jack raised his voice over Gwen's sobs. "Please, let me have your cock." He looked to make sure the guard had stepped away from Gwen.

He caught sight of the guard moving back from Gwen just as the Master's cock pressed past his lips.

"That's right!" the Master groaned as he worked himself in and out of Jack's mouth. "Suck it good." He threw back his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

Jack really wanted to close his own eyes and block out the sight and scent of the Time Lord. He was angry with himself for the lapse that had caused Gwen pain.

"Open your eyes, Jack," the Master said harshly.

Reluctantly, Jack's eyes snapped open and he searched wildly for a neutral place to rest his gaze. He refused to look up. Jack was afraid of the expression he would see on the Master's face.

"Those are pretty eyes," Jack heard the Time Lord say above him. "Pretty eyes to go with the pretty mouth."

The Master pulled himself from between Jack's lips again and Jack tensed for what was to come.

"You know what I want to hear."

Jack hesitated in spite of himself. He caught sight of the Master's hand as it was raised in a silent signal, and he pushed himself to say what needed to be said. "Please, let me have your cock." Jack said it low and through gritted teeth, but it was enough to keep from having to hear Gwen's screams again.

"You are a quick study, Captain," the Master said as he shoved his erection through Jack's lips again. The Time Lord grasped Jack's hair in both fists and worked his cock in and out of Jack's mouth. "I'm going to come in your mouth and you're going to swallow all of me down."

It took all of Jack's concentration not to gag at that moment. He was humiliated and debased. Jack felt like he'd sunk about as low as he possibly could. The Master groaned loudly and slammed the head of his cock deep into Jack's throat and came.

Jack swallowed. He refused to acknowledge what was happening, whose come was shooting down his throat. He breathed and he swallowed and he waited for the ordeal to end.

Jack felt the Master pull himself free. He thought he was going to have a moment to relax but all too soon the excruciating pain shot through Jack's system again. This time the voltage assaulted him from two sources. The Master had a taser in each hand, one on either side of his neck.

Jack screamed himself hoarse in the time it took for him to be electrocuted.

 

Francine brought Jack his meal that evening. He had revived and been dressed and shackled by the guards. He stood sedately in his bonds, unable to muster any kind of witty greeting for Martha's mother.

"Good evening, Captain," Francine said, gracing him with a smile.  
"Please, Francine. You and Tish can call me Jack," he said tiredly.

"You have to endure more from him than the rest of us. Including the Doctor," Francine said as she gently fed Jack his meal. "We call you Captain out of respect for how strong you are."

Her words took Jack by surprise. He wasn't strong. He'd shown that repeatedly when he'd been shoved to his knees and sucked the Master's cock until he came.

"We heard your screams today," she continued. "Tish was too upset to come to you this evening."

"I'm sorry about that."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Francine said as she cleaned his mouth with a soft cloth. "You inspire us to keep going when things with him get crazy."

Before Jack could think of a reply, she was gone.

 

Day 27

Tish managed to communicate a basic outline of the Doctor's plans for escape.

Francine managed to elaborate on the Doctor's plan. She told Jack to expect the signal in three days.

 

Day 30

To no one's surprise, the Master thwarted their first attempt at escape with very little effort. His retribution against the Doctor was swift and cruel.

His retribution against Jack took a little longer, but it was more insidious.

 

Day 31

The morning after their failed escape attempt, Tish brought Jack his meal. She stepped close to his suspended form as she spooned the meal for him. "He's going to come for you today, Captain. He's really angry this time. I'm afraid of what he's going to do."

"Come on, Tish! What can he do? Kill me?" Jack's humor was to reassure himself as well as the young woman.

"It's what he can do leading up to killing you that scares me."

"If he's going to take his anger out on someone, it's best that it's me. However ugly it gets, I'll always live through it," Jack said. "You and your family couldn't."

Tish nodded, keeping her moist eyes averted. "Whatever he does, I'll come help you when it's over."

Jack nodded his acknowledgment, aware of how hard Tish found it to face him after she'd heard his screams. He appreciated her new resolve. "Any idea where they're holding my friends?"

"Nowhere on the Valiant, that much we're sure of." She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the guards wouldn't overhear. "They're planet-side. That's all we know."

"Thank you finding out at least that much," Jack said, as Tish gathered up her tray and left his cell.

 

The guards poured into Jack's cell and his heart raced. The time had come but he felt he needed more time to prepare himself for today's journey into hell.

"Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack." The Master singsonged as he slowly made his way into the cell. "I can't tell you how disappointed I am. I give you food and shelter. I've let your little Martha's family live. Yet you still try to escape me. I thought we had an understanding, Captain."

"We do. I understand you're destroying my planet, keeping me and my friends prisoner, keeping me chained up day after day to torture when the mood strikes you. Did I miss anything?" Jack held the Master's gaze and tried to use his anger to control his rising fear.

"You forgot one thing," the Master said with a smile that sent a chill down Jack's spine. "Your little kiddies that I have tucked away."

Jack clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying anything. He might piss the Master off and make things worse than he already had. The Time Lord had played his fucking trump card; Jack's team. He felt his rage at the Master grow. Jack had come to realize the Master feared him. He feared Jack, Martha and the Doctor. He didn't have what it took to influence people and gain their cooperation with charm or persuasion. His only recourse was good conduct hostages.

"Their safety for your cooperation and compliance." As if he needed to be reminded.

The monitor flashed on and Jack couldn't help but look. He was afraid of what he'd see. The high-resolution image clearly showed Owen Harper strapped to a metal table stripped to his trousers. As Jack watched, a guard stepped forward and emptied the contents of a large bucket over Owen's head and torso. Jack was confused by what he saw. He dreaded what he knew was coming next.

Jack's guards removed his clothes and forced him to stretch so far that he could only make contact with the floor on the balls of his feet. His arms and shoulders were going to make the Master's game a hundred times worse than it would be on its own.

Over the monitor, Owen's screams began. Jack looked up and saw the guards that surrounded Owen were stabbing at him with electric batons. The shocks they administered were conducted throughout Owen's body by both the metal of the table and the water they had doused him with. Jack felt his temper flare. "He had nothing to do with us trying to escape! Neither of them did!"

The Master grabbed Jack's face roughly with one hand. "You sacrificed their safety when you defied me!" he shouted angrily, his face twisted in rage. "Your own actions have sealed their fates!"

Owen's screams of agony continued to flow out of the monitor, his torture in clear living color for the entire room to see. Jack had never felt so impotent. He could hear the guards ask Owen questions and his refusals to answer. Jack was sure they were trying to get Owen to give up the locations of Toshiko and Ianto, and so far he was holding out. How long could that last, though?

"And so, Jack, you and Dr. Harper get to suffer together for your sins." The Master held his hand out to the side and one of the guards placed something into it.

In spite of himself, Jack couldn't help but look at the Master's hand. He held a flogger. The ends of the lengthy leather thongs were tied to sharp metal hooks. Jack's mouth went dry in horror.

The Master stepped around to Jack's side and let fly. The leather thongs struck sharply across the bare flesh of Jack's back, the hooks bit into the skin just above his ribs and ripped. Jack arched sharply and gave a loud feral cry of pain. He danced forward on the balls of his feet in a vain attempt to evade both the pain and future blows.

On the monitor, Owen screamed again as his body arched at the electric current that coursed through him.

The Time Lord landed another blow, this one struck across Jack's shoulders, leaving red welts and torn flesh in its wake. Jack bit down on his lower lip. Jack accepted the pain as his penance for Owen's torture, but he refused to give the Master the satisfaction of his screams.

The third blow scored Jack's hip, the fourth ripped at the flesh of his buttocks.

By the time the Master shifted position to scourge the opposite side of Jack's body, he screamed with each blow and let his cries mingle with Owen's. Together Jack and Owen endured excruciating pain. Blood coursed down the length of Jack's body from the shredded skin of his wounds. Warm rivulets of the stuff trickled down to meet with what flowed from other wounds until rivers of it rolled down his frame. Jack was desolated he'd been forced to suffer with Owen and had not been able to suffer for him.

Jack caught sight of Owen's torture on the monitor and saw that he had weakened. He had no way to know if Owen had broken and given up Tosh and Ianto. He hoped not. In fact, Jack almost wished Owen would die soon so that he'd be out of the Master's reach forever.

Jack felt the Master land the flogger in places that had already been scourged. Fresh, tender red flesh was ripped wide. Jack felt as though his entire body was on fire with pain.

The sound of his own screams mingling with Owen's and drove him over the edge. He sagged roughly down into his bonds in a desperate effort to dislocate his own shoulders and shove himself forcibly into unconsciousness. Jack ignored the little voice inside his own head that whispered to him that he was a coward. He wanted to flee the battlefield and he was ashamed. Jack Harkness did not flee.

It worked. At least for a time. Jack felt his shoulders give and a white light flash behind his eyelids. He found peace. A temporary refuge from the pain of his body as it was ripped apart.

In that refuge, Jack found himself wondering if Owen had broken, and if so, how much longer Tosh and Ianto had left.

Beautiful, brilliant Toshiko. She was the strongest woman Jack had ever known and yet she was completely unaware of that fact herself. In quiet moments or social situations she doubted everything about herself. When Jack turned to her in a crisis, she never failed him. Never. She hacked it, cracked it, programmed it, identified it, or translated it. Thoughts of Tosh made Jack's heart swell with pride.

Her heart was as big as her intellect, too. She was the first one to reach out to Ianto, except for Jack himself, in the wake of the Lisa fiasco. She seemed to naturally understand and forgive. Jack had taken it upon himself to reconnect and ground Ianto, but at some point he'd realized his mission was being helped along by Tosh's efforts, too. He would be forever grateful to her for that. He tried to remember more about her, about any of them, but he couldn't grab onto a thought and follow it through.

Jack was sucked back to life with a deep gasp, a lightening bolt of pain, the realization that his shoulders were still dislocated and that he was still secured to the ceiling. This wasn't right. He should be on the floor with Tish kneeling over him. It was then he saw the Master, flogger still in hand. Jack's mind raced as he sought desperately to think of a way to avoid this.

Someone threw a bucket of cold water on his naked form and he gasped. He looked down to see he had healed from the scourging as pink-tinged water sluiced off his body. Jack looked up at the monitor to see Owen's limp body as it was removed from the table.

"So nice of you to join us again, Jack!" the Master said. "I wasn't finished with you yet. I wanted you conscious for all of this. I couldn't have you retreating to wherever it is you go to evade my tender ministrations."

The flogger began to land across his naked back again, re-ripping the now healed flesh. "Fuck!" Jack cried. "How can you enjoy this, you sick bastard?" Jack was ashamed that his shouts gave the Master what he wanted.

Blows continued to rain down on Jack's tortured skin. The Master used the flogger to rip at his rib cage, his shoulders, his buttocks, his thighs. "You owe me a pound of flesh for your part in the plot against me, Jack. I intend to get my literal pound of flesh." Jack arched and screamed as the flogger ripped into the soft skin of his chest and belly.

"You are a fool, Jack Harkness!" the Master said as the sweat of his exertions dripped from his body. "You sacrificed Dr. Harper's life for a feeble escape attempt at the behest of the Doctor."

"Fuck you! He was innocent! Owen was innocent, you didn't need to kill him," Jack cried through his gritted teeth. "You're a goddamn fucking coward."

"You cost him his life, Captain." The Master stepped directly in front of him. "Your blind loyalty to the Doctor, when he never gives you a second thought. He runs from you, abandons you, and yet calls upon you to help him when I have him under my control. The failure of his plan cost you your precious Owen's life, but what did it cost him? Nothing," he spat. "Does he even care about Owen?"

"You certainly don't!" He knew the Master wanted to divide and conquer, but the words still unsettled him.

"I offer you an alternative, though. Your Doctor does not." The Master's voice was conciliatory, sickly-sweet. "Behave like a good boy and no harm will come to your little Gwenie Cooper. Keep letting the Doctor push you around and she goes the way of Dr. Harper."

The Master stepped close to Jack until they nearly touched. Jack felt the Time Lord's hand cup his genitals roughly. "We could have such lovely times together, Jack. Just give in to me and it doesn't have to be about the pain."

"No." Jack gave the same answer he'd given all along. He couldn't be sure his voice still sounded strong and committed. The Master seemed to expect the defiance.

The Master pulled back and gave Jack an evil smile. "No skin off my back, Captain. I'll take the skin from yours, though."

Jack felt the knife slip between his ribs and pierce his heart, and the world went black.

 

This time Jack awoke as Tish knelt above him, cleaning away the blood. Her jaw clenched with determination as she gently cleaned Jack's body.

"Welcome back, Captain."

"Thank you, Tish." Jack was too emotionally wrung out to stir himself. He lay on the floor naked, relishing the feel of the wet cloth in Tish's hands.

"I'm sorry," she said. "About your friend."

"He's really dead, then?" Jack asked dully. He already knew the truth but still needed to hear it confirmed.

"Yes."

Jack nodded.

When he was clean, Tish helped him up and to dress. He was too tired to even care that his clothes were beyond filthy.

As Tish prepared to leave, she turned back suddenly and placed a soft kiss on Jack's cheek then quickly fled the cell.

 

It was artificial night on the Valiant. The lights were dimmed and the windows blacked out to keep the constant sun from shining through. Staff was asleep and the guards were minimal but still in evidence.

Jack let himself hang from his restraints between the walls of his cell. The constant thrum of the Valiant's engines and the unending humidity were his only companions during these long hours.

He hated these hours. When they left him alone for such a long period of time, his mind always wandered. It didn't always wander to the places of light that gave him comfort, though. Sometimes it went to the dark places. That's where he was tonight.

The Master's words about the Doctor's abandonment of him had gotten under Jack's skin. Jack hated him for that. It gave the Master power Jack had hoped he wouldn't ever have.

Owen was dead. Gwen still a hostage to guarantee Jack's compliance. Tosh and Ianto were out there alone, and he was worried beyond measure for them. He couldn't do anything to help unless he gained his freedom, but that most likely depended on the Doctor, whose priorities would almost certainly be himself and the TARDIS.

His recent conversation with the Doctor ran through his head.

"How long have you known?"

"Since I first ran away from you."

"You're wrong, Jack. A fixed point in time. Even the TARDIS flew to the end of the Universe to try to shake you."

He'd given his life on the Game Station. He had charged into battle with all of them knowing he was going to die to buy the Doctor time. Rose had harnessed the Vortex from the Doctor's own TARDIS, bringing him back forever, but the Doctor had left him behind. He'd known and he'd left anyway. Jack's sacrifice had meant nothing. He'd been stranded on the abandoned station with nothing but Dalek dust and the decaying corpses of those who had fallen with him to help the Doctor. No assistance. No explanations. It had been twenty-two years before he'd come to realize there was something drastically wrong, and then he'd had no one to turn to for help or answers.

And here they were again and the Doctor was asking Jack to sacrifice. Assumed he would, without question.

This time, though, Jack's help came with the price tag of his team, and they didn't get a say in the matter. Jack couldn't accept that. The curse he'd lived with alone for almost 140 years could be the salvation of his team if he would cooperate with the Master.

The thought of giving himself to the Master willingly for torture or sex turned his stomach. The thought that giving in could protect his team made it seem manageable, though. Gwen was relatively safe for now -- she might possess knowledge the Master wanted. If he ever got his hands on Tosh and Ianto, Jack's cooperation would almost certainly be mandatory.

His team had to be Jack's priority. He had already learned the hard way that the Doctor wasn't going to look out for anyone but himself, yet he'd call on all those around him to assist his escape efforts. Jack decided he had to do what was necessary to protect his team, whatever the personal cost to himself.

With that decision made, there was nothing left to do but wait for the morning and the usual visit from Tish or Francine.


	3. Chapter 3

Day 40

Jack was left alone for several days running and he was most grateful. The ladies brought him the best daily reports they could, but no one knew where Gwen was being held, only that it wasn't on the Valiant. They seemed to think the Master had left him alone due to his preoccupation with the supposed rebuilding of the Time Lord Empire. His infatuation with those plans was going to wane eventually. Everyone knew it. Jack could only embrace the days he wasn't paid a visit and steel himself for the inevitable day he was.

He was happy that the Master didn't seek him out, but that left Jack too much time to think. All too often his mind wandered to that sinking feeling of dread and abandonment he'd felt on the Game Station as he watched the TARDIS fade into nothingness and leave him behind. Jack's thoughts coursed back through time and forced him to relive some of his worst deaths. The agony of those deaths compounded ten-fold by not knowing, not understanding. Why? How? For more than a century he'd lain in wait for the Doctor to return so he could get his fucking answers, and what did it amount to? He's wrong? He's a fixed point in time. An accident of Rose's human compassion and fallibility.

Jack tried to stop the Master's words from echoing through his head. "Your blind loyalty to the Doctor, when he never gives you a second thought. He runs from you, abandons you, and yet calls upon you to help him when I have him under my control." The words were insidious and kept finding their way back into his thoughts.

He shoved those thoughts aside abruptly. Instead he dragged a memory of Ianto out of his reserves.

"Beg your pardon, sir. Did I overhear that you suffered a personal loss yesterday?"

Jack sighed at memories of Estelle. "Yes. I did."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, Ianto."

"Is there anything else you require this evening?"

Jack had wondered if he should push their fledgling relationship or take a step back. Ianto had taken the decision from him. After a brief conversation wherein he had quietly told Jack he admired and respected him as a leader and his ability to make the hard decisions, the right decisions, no matter the personal cost, Ianto had clearly issued an unspoken invitation. One that Jack had jumped on enthusiastically.

In that moment, Jack was hard pressed to think of a sight prettier than Ianto's arse bent over the top of his desk.   
………………………………………………………………………………………

Jack was surprised that his guards didn't immediately strip him when they filed into his cell later that day. They took him down, secured his hands behind his back, and marched him out of the cell.

"None of us serve him by choice, Captain," a voice said just behind his shoulder. Jack turned slightly to see that it belonged to one of his guards -- the one who almost always oversaw Jack's stripping and re-chaining.

"Then why do you?" Jack asked.

"The same reason you've begun to give in to him. He holds our loved ones hostage."

"Shit," Jack whispered. "I'm sorry to hear that." It did explain this man's unusual concern with Jack's comfort and dignity where his own orders were concerned.

"We all do what we can for you, Captain, but when he gets it into his head he's going to do something to you, we're powerless to stop him."

Jack nodded his understanding.

"In the end, the only thing I can do is send one of the ladies to help when it's over."

Jack's stride faltered at the implication of the guard's words. They were all risking something to send him comfort after his encounters with the Master, and he was grateful. "Thank you," was all he could think to say.

The guard opened a nearby door. Once inside he saw that it was very large bedchamber nearly the size of the main area of the Hub. The bed was a large, overdone affair with a wooden canopy and too many pillows.

The guards retreated and he heard the door lock. Francine emerged from a door across the room, walked to where he stood and released his wrists.

She kept hold of one hand and led him toward the door from which she had come. "The Master ordered you brought to his bedroom and cleaned up. Thoroughly," she explained. "The guards thought you might be more comfortable with my help instead of theirs. You know, a gentle mother's touch and all." She smiled up at him as they stepped into a large, well-appointed bath suite.

"I think I have everything you'll need, Captain. You have about an hour before he said you had to be ready. Would you prefer a shower or a bath?"

Jack looked down at the oversized bathtub that would hold at least two full-grown men and it occurred to him that if he and Ianto survived any of this, he was going to make a point of finding a tub like this one.

Jack shook himself from his reverie. "I'd love a good soak, but I haven't been clean in so long, I don't want to sit in my own grime. I'll shower."

Francine moved to the stall and started the water. "I'll let you adjust the heat to your preference," she said, turning away. "Just leave your clothes in a pile and I'll do what I can to clean them up a bit."

Jack did as instructed and left his disgusting clothes in a pile. At first the water was too hot for his comfort, but with a small adjustment it was just right. Jack sighed deeply at the wonderful sensation of hot running water. He'd missed this. He stuck his head under the spray and let it run through his hair.

He stepped out from under the water in time to hear Francine say, "There's soap and shampoo and a few other niceties in there, but I have more out here. Let me know if you need anything, Captain."

"Francine," Jack called over the sound of the water, "call me Jack. The number of times you've seen me naked means we should be on a first name basis by now." He began to shampoo his hair, rubbing his scalp briskly and loving it.

Martha's mother chuckled. "If I were Martha's age, Jack…."

"You don't need to be Martha's age, Francine. You're a fine specimen of a woman just as you are." Jack ducked his head under the spray to rinse his hair.

Francine laughed. "We have no idea how you manage to keep flirting with all you're going through."

Jack inhaled the clean scent of the soap before lathering his body with it. "Nothing should get in the way of good flirt!"

Relishing the heat of the water and the sensation of being clean, Jack washed his hair again, and then lathered up his body one more time. He had no idea when he'd get this chance again, so he made the most of it.

"You wouldn't happen to have a spare toothbrush, would you, Francine?"

"Waiting for you out here, Jack."

Reluctantly, he shut down the shower. Immediately a pair of towels appeared above the top of the frosted glass door. Jack wrapped the first around his hips and attacked his hair with the second as he exited the stall. "Do I ever feel human again." He said with a bright smile.

"You certainly look and smell a lot better!" Francine said with an answering smile and a gesture toward the basin where a plastic wrapped toothbrush, toothpaste, and a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash sat waiting for him. She rummaged around for something while Jack brushed more than a month's worth of grime from his teeth.

When he had rinsed, Francine appeared behind him and began to run a comb through his hair. When the tangles where out, she put a substance in the palm of one hand, rubbed them together, than ran her hands through his hair. Settling a few strands the way she wanted, she stepped back and admired her handiwork. "That's the best I can do for you."

"More than I could ask for," Jack replied, meeting her gaze in the mirror. She was mothering him, he realized. He didn't exactly remember what it was like to be mothered. Jack found he rather liked it, which felt just a bit embarrassing.

Francine looked away and began to pack up everything Jack had used. "I feel a bit like I'm preparing the lamb for slaughter."

Jack turned to face her. "Not to worry. I'm a wolf in sheep's clothing."

She smiled at his joke then handed Jack a small pile of white linen. "He wants you to put these on."

Jack took the clothes and shook them out, examining the drawstring linen trousers and matching tunic. "Well, it's better than I expected," he said with a raised eyebrow as he began to dress.

Francine left the bathroom and Jack heard her speak to someone. It sounded like Tish. Once dressed, Jack stepped out and saw that it was indeed Martha's sister, and she carried a large tray heavily laden with food. Jack's stomach growled at the sight.

The women cleared away a small table framed by some comfortable looking chairs and set the tray down. "He sent this," Tish said.

With a deep sigh, Jack sat down and looked over the fare. "He's trying to seduce me." he said flatly. This change in tactic made Jack uneasy. It was an insidious way to try to get into his head. Not only was it working, but also it left him without an answer as to why.

"It's better than what he's done to you in the past." Francine said, her tone glum.

"Don't worry about me, ladies," Jack said as he began to eat. "And thanks for everything." He gave them both a wink and they smiled before retreating through the bedroom door.

A lamb to the slaughter indeed. Jack tried not to think about it. He was clean and getting fed and he'd already resigned himself to what he must do to keep Gwen alive and safe. He'd be okay in the end. He just wouldn't think about it too much.

……………………………………………………………

Over an hour later, the Master burst through the door of the bedchamber. Jack looked up, startled, and then tried to resume his calm slouch.

When the Master saw Jack, he stopped abruptly. "Well, hello, gorgeous!" he growled.

Ordinarily such a reaction would have gained the speaker an enthusiastic flirtation, but Jack stayed silent, eyeing the Master warily.

"You do clean up nicely, Jack. I must say." The Master approached and ran a hand down the back of Jack's head.

Jack pulled out of reach abruptly.

"I would expect some gratitude since I've seen to it you've had a shower, some nice clean clothes and a great meal," the Master snapped, moving to peruse the remainder of the food.

"Why should I be grateful that you restored things you had no right to take away in the first place?" Jack countered.

"I didn't have to do these things for you at all, you know." The Master took the chair opposite Jack's. He couldn't help but notice the way the Time Lord's foot tapped in a rhythmic four-count beat where it lay crossed over his knee. Jack heard that tattoo in his dreams now.

"You don't need to be keeping me captive in the first place."

"But I so love having you around!" the Master said with that smile that always turned Jack's stomach. "We've had some fun, you and I. Haven't we?"

"No," Jack said flatly.

"And whose fault is that?" the Master demanded, getting up to pace. "You refuse to say my name and you insist on resisting me. It's no wonder you don't enjoy our little interludes."

"I've never known anyone who enjoyed torture," Jack said.

"What are you complaining about? You rise from the dead all healed up. No lasting damage."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's the hours of agony before my death that I object to."

"It doesn't have to be agony, Jack." The Master stepped behind him and placed his hands on Jack's shoulders. He tried to move away, but the Time Lord held him fast. "Just say my name. Stop resisting my power and it could be hours and hours of ecstasy." The Master dragged his fingers up Jack's cheek.

"I'm sure your definition of ecstasy differs from mine." Jack pulled away from the offending hand. "A lot."

The Master moved away from Jack to stalk around the bedroom like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. "Don't forget, Captain! I killed your precious Dr. Harper because you defied me. I still have little PC Cooper who could suffer the same fate if you don't start obeying me as you should."

His words brought Jack up short. He was suddenly reminded of his vow to do whatever he had to in order to keep Gwen safe, and Toshiko and Ianto out of the Master's grasp. "Owen didn't deserve that kind of death," Jack said, his defiance draining away, leaving only resignation in its place.

"Deserving has nothing to do with it. It was merely an exercise of my considerable will."

Jack didn't reply.

"So, Jack. Are you going to accept my kindness or do we adjourn to your cell for a viewing of some entertainment featuring your little girl, Gwen?"

Jack drew a deep breath and realized he was at a crossroads. It was time to protect his team with the only weapon he still had at his disposal. He couldn't make himself move toward the Master, but he could sit silently. Jack felt powerless. His powerlessness was all he had left to use.

"Does your silence mean capitulation?" the Master asked, stepping toward Jack. This time when he reached out to touch, Jack didn't pull away. He even managed not to flinch. "Now we're getting somewhere."

The Master drew him to his feet, making him feel like a fucking virgin bride as he led Jack to the center of the room. Jack couldn't bring himself to look the Master in the eyes, but he did force his body to give up all resistance.

Jack realized he was in over his head as soon as the Master kissed him. It was hot and wet and sloppy and disgusting. However, he returned it as enthusiastically as he could. He'd been a con man. He was adept at fooling people. Making them what they wanted to see and believe what he wanted them to believe. This was no different.

Or so Jack told himself.

The Master's hands were everywhere. Jack felt them run up his chest then snake around to roam up his back, only to drop down and grasp his arse. The Master's offending hands reached out to grasp Jack's soft cock. Was he going to have to try to get hard? The Master rubbed him, cupped his balls, and squeezed his entire groin painfully.

Jack felt the cruel hands move to his shoulders and roughly push him to his knees.

"You know what I want," the Master hissed.

On his knees, Jack was eye level with the Master's cock. His mouth went dry, which was not a good thing. He willed himself to relax. He'd done this before. He'd endured this before. This was nothing. Breathe deep and relax. He reached for the Master's fly and opened it, pulling the Time Lord's erection from his trousers.

"Say it, Jack," he heard from above him.

"I want your cock," Jack said, his voice a low monotone as a sense of degradation swamped him.

"And I want you to have it." The Master made it sound magnanimous.

Unlike last time, Jack had use of his hands so he steadied himself on the other man's hips, took a deep breath and wrapped his lips around the Master's cock. He slid down the shaft slowly and finally managed to work up saliva. Jack drew himself back up the erection until he held just the head between his lips.

He kept his eyes shut and his mind on other things as he worked the cock with his mouth. He went fast and deep, thinking to get it over with quickly.

"Open your eyes, Jack," the Master said.

Jack snapped his eyes open but remembered at the last second not to look up. He continued to suck while he let his mind drift.

Jack had just latched on to a more pleasant thought when he felt a sharp blow land on the side of his head. Stunned, Jack toppled over to land on his side. How could he have allowed himself to drop his guard, even for a moment?

The Master stood over him, enraged. "I told you not to avoid me, Jack!" The Time Lord grabbed him by the hair and dragged him back to his knees. "You stay right here, with me. No retreating inside yourself."

A second blow landed on Jack's temple and he crashed back to the floor. He stayed where he'd fallen, unsure what the safest course of action was. Should he go back to sucking the Master's dick? Or wait to be told what to do? Jack floundered in confusion. He was used to being in control and knowing what to do. Now that he was stripped of any and all power, he was at a loss for what to do to keep the Master from hurting or humiliating him further.

The question was answered when the Master's hand gripped his hair again and yanked him up to his knees. Jack was made to crawl to the large bed as the Master dragged him across the carpet with painful tugs.

Jack was forced face down on the bed. He felt the trousers he wore jerked down over his hips and torn from his body. The Master climbed on to the bed between Jack's thighs and pinned him to the mattress with a rough hand between his shoulders. It took everything Jack had not to use his superior weight and strength to throw the other man off. He'd already pushed it too far with the Time Lord. This was going to hurt, but any more resistance from Jack could well mean disaster for Gwen.

The Master lay down on top of Jack and growled into his ear. "You're going to stay right here with me every moment, Captain. Understand?"

"Yes." Jack whispered.

"You're not going to go hiding inside your own mind." The Master bit down hard on Jack's earlobe. "I want you right here feeling every inch of me up your arse. Knowing it's me up your arse. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes."

"Good," the Master growled, and Jack felt his weight shift as the Time Lord reached for something Jack couldn't see. He jumped when the Master's cold, lube-covered fingers pressed themselves inside of him. Moments later, the Master's cock was pressed between the cheeks of his arse.

Jack gripped the coverlet with both hands and steeled himself. The Master drove himself deep into Jack's body with one thrust, his weight added to his leverage. Jack turned his face into the bed. "Fuck!" The pain was searing.

The Master rode Jack's body roughly, his thrusts hard and fast. Each downward snap of his hips shoved Jack's body into the bed. He tried to keep his shouts and screams to a minimum but the pain was intense and unrelenting. He felt his body give and tear jaggedly. He felt when his own blood began to mix with the lube. Jack grit his teeth and fisted the coverlet. He knew his cries would fuel the Master, but some of them he just couldn't help. At this moment, Jack hated the Time Lord for making him weak, for making him feel used and dirty.

He was so focused on his own pain and humiliation that Jack was unaware just when the Master slipped the cord around his throat. Jack's abused body felt split apart from the Master's violent thrusts when he felt the cord tighten. The man above became much heavier because he was no longer supporting his own weight. The Master continued to tighten the cord around Jack's neck and cut off his air. The intruding cock continued to invade his body, ripping and tearing him. He longed for the unconsciousness the cord would bring.

It became harder and harder to breathe, and Jack saw stars. The pain receded slightly and he knew he would pass out soon. His body relaxed the Master's thrusts continued to pummel him. Jack felt ashamed for a fleeting moment as he realized he was once again fleeing his torment. Then it all went black.  
…………………………………………………..

Jack gasped his way back to life to find he was alone in the Master's bed, still naked from the waist down as he lay on his stomach. He slid from the bed and headed for the bathroom. The blood was the only lingering sign of what had happened. There was no stiffness or soreness for which Jack knew he should be grateful. He tore the tunic over his head and turned on the shower. He stepped into the scalding spray and reached for the soap to erase the traces of blood. It would do little for his shame.

As he rinsed, Jack felt himself begin to tremble. He eased himself to sit down on the tiles underneath the spray. Jack drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees. He dropped his head down and let the water beat down around him.

Jack couldn't remember ever feeling so filthy and disgraced. He'd allowed the Master to use his body for his own pleasure. He hadn't fought back. His body had been torn apart and still he had no guarantees that the Master wouldn't harm his team. Jack felt less than useless. He hoped none of his team would ever see him like this. He wouldn't be able to endure that.  
…………………………………………………………………………………………..

Jack snapped his head up at the sound of Francine's voice calling his name. He scrambled to his feet before he responded, "In the shower, Francine."

Her shadow appeared outside the frosted door. "Do you need anything, Jack?"

"Towels and clothes," he responded numbly.

"Both are right here," she said. "Ready when you are."

Jack shut off the water and a towel appeared just as before. They repeated their entire routine from earlier, right down to Francine styling his hair. This time, though, Jack's own clothes were back.

Tish brought a neatly folded stack of blue and white into the bathroom. Now this, Jack thought, would make Ianto happy.

"We cleaned them as best we could for you." Tosh explained in a soft voice. "A couple of your guards donated some things, like a new vest." She shook out and held up the pristine white garment.

Jack took it from her. "Thank them for me, would you, Tish?"

She nodded, then Francine shooed her daughter from the room. "We'll let you get dressed, then. We've been told to take you back now."

"I'll be right out," Jack said.

When he stepped into the bedchamber dressed in familiar, somewhat cleaner clothes, Jack saw that the ladies had removed the coverlet from the bed. He felt a strange sort of embarrassment as he imagined the state they had found it in and wondered what they thought. A knock on the door interrupted his mortified musings.

The guards filed in and secured Jack's hands behind his back. "Sorry to have to take you back, Captain." The guard who had spoken to him earlier was back.

Jack only nodded in understanding as they led him from the room and back down the corridors of the Valiant.  
…………………………………………………..

Day 41

It was Tish who visited him the next morning. She greeted Jack with forced cheerfulness. "Good morning, Captain! Ready for your delicious breakfast?"

"As long as it comes from your hand, Beautiful!" he replied with what he thought of as his trademark wide smile.

"There's a rumor circulating," Tish said as she fed Jack the horrid paste. "The Master caught another member of your team."

Jack's face fell and cold fingers of dread crawled up his spine. "Any idea who it is?" he asked.

Tish shook her head. "We don't even know if it's true or not." She tilted her head to the side as if considering. "Unless," she began, "does it mean anything to you that whoever they might have caught was leading the troops away from someone they wanted to stop from tampering with Archangel?"

"Oh, God. Ianto," Jack whispered his heart in his throat and a sick feeling in his gut. "Toshiko would be trying to take down Archangel." He wanted to deny it. Jack almost believed that raging against it would keep it from being true.

"It's not for sure they actually caught anyone else, Jack." Tish tried to be reassuring.

Jack sighed heavily and looked directly into Tish's eyes. "But Tosh would try to figure out how to crash Archangel and Ianto would do anything he had to, to buy her time."

"We'll try to find out more for you," Tish said solemnly as she turned to go.

"Thanks, Tish. But I'm sure if the Master has Ianto, he won't wait to rub my face in it."  
……………………………………………………….

The guards marched Jack to the Master's bedchamber once again. Francine awaited him with the linen clothes from the day before.

Jack had changed clothes and was waiting when the Master stormed into the room, slamming the door behind him. He crossed the room and grasped Jack by the hair, yanking him from the chair.

The sharp pain of his hair being jerked from his scalp was matched by the burning of his knees as he was dragged across the carpet. Jack struggled to keep up with the Master and not fall over completely.

When they reached the door, the Master spoke. "I'm locking this door from the inside, Jack. But it's an isomorphic lock. Only I can open it."

Jack knelt before the door and looked at it, comprehending fully. He was trapped inside the room with the psychotic Master and the only way out was with the Time Lord's DNA combined with his living vital stats. If Jack brought any harm to the Master, he wouldn't be able to get out. Jack felt he had reached a new level of helplessness.

"Do you understand, Jack?" the Master asked fiercely, yanking on Jack's hair roughly.

"Yes," he replied.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

"That will do for now, but you will say my name soon, Jack."

Dragged to the center of the room, Jack's knees were raw and on fire now.

"Eyes on the screen, Jack. Time for a little show." The Master grasped Jack's chin and forced his face up to view the huge wall-mounted monitor.

The picture flashed into focus and Jack saw two kneeling figures, hoods over their heads. His heart sank. He didn't need the hoods removed to know who he was seeing. Gwen still wore the same clothes she had been in the last time. The other figure Jack would know anywhere.

Ianto.

The hoods were removed and Jack could deny it no longer. He felt sick to his stomach. Fear crept up his spine and he knew a fresh kind of impotence. He truly had no choice any longer but to give in to the Master's whims.

The Time Lord knelt down next to Jack and whispered into his ear. The hand not grasping Jack's hair snaked its way up beneath his tunic and began to stroke across his chest and abdomen. "I'd like to draw your attention to the jewelry each of your precious kiddies is sporting."

Jack took note of the wide metallic collars Gwen and Ianto each wore.

"Come with me back to the door," the Master sing-songed as he led Jack back across the room. "Now touch the handle, Captain."

Jack slowly reached out a trembling hand and laid two fingers on the handle of the door. As soon as his skin touched the metal of the handle, two loud repetitive beeps were heard from the monitor.

"That sound," the Master whispered into Jack's ear, "is of the countdown to the destruction of your beloved team members."

Jack pulled his hand back as if he'd been bitten.

"It's their jewelry," the Time Lord said gleefully. "If you try to leave this room before I disengage the lock," the Master made the sound of a mock explosion, "Bye-bye to Jack's kiddies!"

Jack clawed through the sense of desolation he felt. The Master had created the perfect cage for Jack. He could survive whatever damage the door could inflict when the lock was breached, but by linking the lock to Gwen and Ianto he had ensured Jack's complete surrender.

"Do we understand one another, Jack?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." The Master released Jack's hair and moved away.

Jack stayed kneeling by the door and waited to be told what to do next.

"Come to me, Jack. Come show the reverence you owe me."

Numbly, Jack pushed himself to crawl across the carpet on hands and knees that were still aflame. As he slowly approached the Master, he kept his head down and focused on the Time Lord's shoes as they came into view. He stopped crawling and placed his forehead down on the Master's feet. Jack's debasement felt complete.

"That's right." The Master's voice was cruel. "I own you, Jack Harkness."

Struggling against a suffocating helplessness, Jack chose to remain silent. He hoped that response seemed submissive enough to placate the Master.

"Kneel up," the Time Lord said.

Jack sat back on his heels, keeping his head bowed. He was surprised by the blow to the side of his head. It knocked him to the floor and he grunted in surprise and pain.

"I didn't say you could lie down. Kneel up, Jack," the Master ordered in a cold, calm voice that chilled Jack to his core.

He struggled back to his knees.

A closed fist landed on the opposite side of Jack's head, once again sending him heavily to the floor. "Kneel up, Jack!" the Master ordered immediately.

Jack pushed himself upright again.

The next blow caught him in the jaw and he felt the corner of his mouth tear. This time he hesitated only a moment before he pushed himself back up to his knees.

"You really are a quick study," the Master said, cruel laughter in his voice.

The next blow landed in the same spot, and Jack felt his blood trickling down his chin. He pushed himself back to his knees. He was shaky, but he stayed upright.

"And so we have obedience," the Master said, and Jack felt his gut twist at the truth of the words.

The Time Lord stepped around behind Jack and delivered a swift kick between his shoulder blades. He landed face down this time, barely breaking his fall with his hands. Before he could recover he was pinned to the carpet with a foot to the back of his neck.

"Now that we understand one another," the Master said, "it's time for some ground rules. There are none except those I make up to suit myself."

"Yes, sir," Jack said, his voice muffled slightly by the plush carpet.

"Hands at your back," the Master ordered curtly.

Jack complied and he felt wide cuffs fastened around his wrists. The foot at his neck was removed and he was jerked roughly to his knees by his bound wrists. Jack grunted at the stress on his shoulders.

The Master knelt next to Jack again and ran his hands over Jack's body. "You are a beautiful human, Jack. But then you know that, don't you?" The Time Lord's hands made their way underneath Jack's clothing. "What is it about you that inspires such loyalty in those that know you?" The Master's hand was under the waistband of Jack's trousers, roughly stroking his cock.

Unsure if he should answer, Jack remained silent. He was punished when his arms were jerked upward by his restraints. "Fuck!"

"I asked you a question," the Master said.

"I don't know, sir." Jack's voice was rough with pain.

The Master ran his fingers lightly down Jack's cheek. "I don't understand it either. First your little kiddie-kids, and now the ladies of the Jones family. You can't have shagged them all now, can you, Jack?"

"No, sir."

Jack felt the Master's lips against his ear, his hot breath brushing along Jack's cheek. "Do you hope that you'll shag them some day?"

"I don't know, sir," he answered placidly, determined to disguise his sudden and surprising resentment. There was more to Jack than his desire for sex. He genuinely cared for his team.

The Master's mouth pressed a lewd kiss to Jack's neck. "Maybe they think you can share the secret of your immortality with them?"

Jack shivered at the thought. "I don't know, sir."

The Master's hand snaked down the cleft of Jack's arse, parting him slightly. "A funny thing. Your team doesn't know where you are. You left them, Jack! You ran out on them without a word. Left them with questions and no answers."

Jack's heart sank. Those cruel words were the truth. That's just what he'd done. And yet, they were staying strong. His team was refusing to give in, and Jack owed them the same. "Yes, sir."

"That's a bad boy, Jack! You should be punished for such inconsiderate behavior."

"Yes, sir," Jack said, knowing things were about to spiral right out of his control. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

Jack's arms were once again jerked painfully upward. He rose to his feet to alleviate the pain and the pressure. Even on his toes, Jack's shoulders were strained. He managed not to make any sounds of pain but he could hear his own breath coming raggedly through his nose. The Master walked Jack to the edge of the bed.

"Kneel up on the bed and face me," the Master ordered, and Jack obeyed immediately. He sat back on his heels and bowed his head.

The Master tore Jack's tunic open, buttons flying across the room. He pushed it off Jack's shoulders to tangle in the restraints at his wrists.

"Oh, my, yes!" the Master sighed, running his hands over Jack's naked chest. The Time Lord grasped Jack's head roughly between his hands and pressed their lips together in a hard, bruising kiss.

Jack forced himself to hold still as the Master's tongue violated his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to return the kiss, but he managed not to pull away.

The Master pulled back and plunged a hand down the front of Jack's trousers. He gripped Jack's scrotum and squeezed it roughly, ripping a harsh gasp from Jack's lips. "I've been thinking about you, Jack. Ever since the fun we had yesterday. I could hardly wait to be with you again!"

Jack remained silent as he endured the Master's rough treatment.

"Feeling you die while I was inside of you. Spectacular!" The Master breathed against Jack's parted lips. "I spent all last night thinking of different ways to kill you while I fuck you."

A shudder of fear and revulsion coursed through Jack's entire frame. The Master mistook it for desire.

"Let's get started, shall we?" the Time Lord asked brightly. He produced a long, soft scarf and began to wrap it around Jack's neck. He crossed the ends over in front, grasped one in each hand and drew his fists apart.

Jack felt the scarf tighten and start to cut off his breath. His mouth fell open in the struggle to breathe. The Master stood at the edge of the bed and forced Jack to maintain eye contact as he strangled him to death.

If Jack ever doubted that this Time Lord was a monster, he had his confirmation now. Shame at his own cowardice at the Cruciform had driven the Master over the edge. It took a true madman to enjoy maintaining eye contact with someone as he strangled the life out of him.

As Jack slipped into the unconsciousness that led to death, he felt the Master place his lips on his own as if to breathe in Jack's last breath.   
…………………………………………………………

Jack gasped his way back into life and was immediately aware of the pain that wracked his entire body. "Ow! Fuck!" he yelled, before becoming aware of the reason he was in more pain than usual this time.

While he was dead, the Master had stripped Jack's trousers, shoved him face down on to the mattress, climbed on top and started to fuck. The usual pain of his resurrection was amplified by the sensation of being filled to the point of tearing. Jack felt his body rip apart again, his blood making him more slick and sticky.

The Master was above him, propped on his own arms as he roughly shoved himself in and out of Jack's tortured opening. "Oh, yes! Jack, that was magnificent!" The Time Lord lowered his head and bit the back of Jack's neck so hard Jack was sure he'd left teeth marks and possibly drawn blood. "I thought it was ecstasy to fuck you while you died. It's just as magical when you come back to life!" The Master laughed a laugh that frightened Jack in a way he'd never been frightened before.

To his own ears, Jack's sounds began to resemble sobs. He'd given so much to the Master so far; he refused to give the evil Time Lord his tears.

Jack hadn't realized the scarf was still around his neck until the Master raised himself up and took the ends with him, causing Jack's back to arch severely. "Again, Jack!" he hissed. "I want to be inside you when you're in your death throes."

The angle as well as the constriction plunged Jack into death quickly this time. He continued to feel ripped apart by the Master's cock as the darkness overtook him and he plunged into his second death in as many minutes.

Jack dragged himself back into life and immediately regretted it. The Master had repositioned them while Jack was dead. Some less traumatized part of Jack's mind acknowledged that it had been quite a feat, given his own greater height and build. Jack struggled to survive his ordeal as he faced the fact that he now lay on his back, knees pressed to his chest as the Master heaved himself in and out of his damaged opening. His arms were still restrained behind him but they were thankfully numb. Jack felt utterly mortified at being face to face with his abuser.

"Jack! You are the best fuck in the universe," the Master said perversely as he lowered himself over Jack's body to give him a hot, disgusting kiss. "What a treat you are."

Jack closed his eyes against the horrific sight of the Master straining above him. He forgot himself for a moment and paid the price. His eyes shot open when the Master grasped his scrotum, squeezed and twisted. Jack screamed. His frustration at his inability to fight back peaked, and he barely stopped himself from lashing out at the Master in retaliation. Instead, he grit his teeth and reminded himself that Ianto's life depended on his obedience.

"Eyes open!" the Master ordered as he released Jack. "You stay with me at all times, until I release you into death!"

"Yes, sir," Jack gasped.

The Master toyed with one end of the scarf still around Jack's neck. "This is Lucy's, you know," he informed Jack. "After this, I'm going to get a hard-on every time she wears it. Just remembering the sensation of you clenching around my cock as I squeeze the life out of you!"

Jack hoped he never saw that scarf again.

The Master took one of the pillows strewn across the bed and pressed it to Jack's face. Smothering was an awful, frightening way to die, but Jack was about to endure it, yet again. He'd rather be strangled, but he had already accepted that he had no say in any of this.

Jack couldn't help but struggle -- it was a natural reaction to the violence. He must have dislodged the Master somewhat as he thrashed because this time he didn't die.

Jack floated in a blissful unconsciousness. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't awake, and that meant a brief respite from the pain.

Memories of Ianto came to Jack unbidden. Calming. Soothing. They had come so far together in a short period of time, salvaging a functional relationship from the ashes of Lisa's death. Through mutual need, affection and a growing respect they had formed a more intimate connection. Their last kiss crossed his thoughts.

He was relieved to be back, finally alive again. Out of the darkness. Gwen was there. She helped him sit up and then to dress. She took him in search of the rest of the team. Really, he was in search of Ianto.

Still, it felt good when Toshiko slammed into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She smelled so warm and alive. He hugged her back with an enthusiasm that equaled her own.

Then there was Ianto. His expressions were the most readable Jack had seen since the night Lisa died. Shock. Relief. Self-consciousness. Pain. Pain that was easing, but traces of it lingered still. He held his hand out to Jack tentatively but Jack was having none of that. He dragged Ianto against his own body and held him close. He was so warm. The familiar scent Jack knew as Ianto. This was an important second chance in a lifetime of multiple chances, so Jack drew back and placed a firm kiss on Ianto's lips. In that kiss he tried to say 'hey, I'm back' and 'give me a little time here then we can be alone.'

That time had never come. Jack heard the sound of the TARDIS and off he ran to get his own answers and left Ianto with none.

Jack came back to consciousness slowly. The pain and humiliation were no less. The Master was still heaving away between Jack's thighs.

"We'll stick with strangulation from now on, Jack," the Master said in a conversational tone. "That near miss just wasn't satisfying enough."

This time the Master killed Jack with his bare hands, looking him in the eye the entire time. When he sucked in his first breath of life, it was to discover the Master shuddering and groaning above him. A loud feral cry escaped the Time Lord as he threw back his head and came inside of Jack.

Just as Jack thought the Master was coming down from his orgasmic high, the Time Lord produced a large wicked knife from beneath a pillow. Without another word he plunged it into Jack's heart.  
………………………………………………….

Jack found himself unbound and alone when he revived. He looked down at himself and saw his own blood smeared everywhere. It was on his thighs, his belly, and his chest. It stained the new coverlet worse than the previous day. In the air lingered the mingled scent of Jack's blood and the Master's come. He gathered up the torn clothes and stumbled into the bathroom. He tossed the linen garments into a pile in the corner and turned on the shower.

Jack scrubbed roughly at his body, trying to rid himself of the Master's scent.

Back in the quiet of the bedchamber, Jack's thoughts turned to Gwen and to Ianto. The monitor was dark so he had no indication if his submission had bought their lives, if only for a short while. Jack was fairly sure that had the Master gone ahead and tortured or killed them, he'd have stuck around to use it against Jack. The Time Lord's evil made him predictable at least. No, the fact that he'd been alone when he'd revived meant he done it. He'd saved them.

At least he hoped that's what it meant.

……………………………………………………….

Day 49

Tish brought word of another ploy by the Doctor to disrupt the Master's plans and hopefully help them all escape.

Jack found himself hesitating to commit. There were a few moments when he considered not participating in the Doctor's latest plot. He feared what another failure would cost him or his team. Jack knew the Doctor had a larger plan that included Martha and them all but he just couldn't be sure any longer that what was best for the Doctor was best for himself and his team.   
…………………………………………………………….

Day 52

The Doctor's plot had failed spectacularly, just as Jack had predicted. There was no immediate punishment meted out. The Doctor and the Joneses bore the brunt of the Master's wrath, but Jack remained forgotten for a time following the thwarted plan. But only for a time.


	4. Chapter 4

Day 60

 

He made them watch the islands of Japan burn. The Master hauled them all up to the bridge and made them watch it. Jack was devastated at the thought of so many needless deaths. His heart went out to all the poor souls below and he wondered if there had been anything at all he might have done to prevent the wanton destruction.

 

Wild rumors circulated that both Martha and Toshiko had been there when the Toclafane had descended and torn the people and the land apart. The Master never said so, but Jack was sure the rumors were at least partially behind the Master’s decision to destroy Japan.

 

Ship’s night had fallen on the _Valiant_ and Jack hung alone in his cell with nothing but his own thoughts. The Master had left him alone for several days, but Jack wasn’t fooling himself that he’d been forgotten. First the Doctor’s foiled escape attempt monopolized the Master’s attention, then the rumors about Martha and Tosh surfaced. The Time Lord had spent the better part of the last week plotting how he was going to destroy Japan. Jack knew his luck had to be running out, and he couldn’t help but feel a little fearful. If he was honest with himself, he dreaded the return of the Master’s focus.

 

Because he’d been left alone for so long, he hadn’t been forced to watch the torment of his team. On the other hand, because he hadn’t seen them, he didn’t know how they were doing. He hoped Ianto and Gwen were together, that they had contact so they could draw comfort and strength from one another. Ianto’s strength was quiet. Gwen’s strength was loud and aggressive. Jack knew that Gwen saw Ianto’s quiet ways as timidity and would do all she could to protect and shelter him. Ianto would let her, all the while silently propping her up and supporting her so that she was almost unaware it was even happening. Just like he did everyday for Jack.

 

Jack allowed himself a small smile when he considered what kind of hell PC Cooper was probably giving her captors. There was no way she was going to make it easy on any of them. She was Jack’s own personal hellion. She questioned and challenged at every turn and had managed in a very short period of time to drag Jack out of the hub, off of the roofs and back into the business of living amongst the citizens he protected everyday. Jack relished her humanity.

 

He was suddenly struck by a fear that had been dogging him ever since the Master had first captured Owen and Gwen. Their safety depended on him -- his cooperation and his obedience. The Master had vowed that Jack would say his name some time very soon. He had managed to avoid it so far, but he knew he couldn’t hold out forever. The Master wouldn’t let him. It seemed to be the last remaining symbol of Jack’s resistance, and the Time Lord was going to strip him of that dignity very soon.

 

He refused to think about it right now, but he knew beyond a certainty that he would give in when the time came because it meant Gwen’s life.

 

It meant Ianto’s life.

………………………………………………**..**

 

Day 63

 

The guards filed into the room. He’d stopped making clever quips when he’d realized they were the Master’s prisoners as much as he was. Jack submitted to their dignified and economic removal of his clothing.

 

Instead of filing out of the cell when they were done, they took up positions all around the inside. The Master strode in, a thunderous expression on his face. He spoke to no one, including Jack. He looked at no one. A flunky entered on his heels carrying a folding chair. The flunky set the chair up for the Master who sat down and opened up the book he carried. _Clan of the Cave Bear_ would not have been high on the list of reading material Jack would have attributed to the Master, but it wasn’t like he really cared one way or another.

 

The guards stood at attention, Jack hung naked, and the Master read a book. Wasn’t this cozy? Jack was anxious and that anxiety grew stronger as every silent second ticked by. He was angry with himself for letting the Master have this power over him.

 

Jack was about to let a smart comment roll off his tongue when he realized he was hearing a repetitive rhythm. The Master sat still in his chair, apparently enthralled with his book, but his fingers were tapping out _the_ rhythm. Over and over his fingers made the sound of the hypnotic Archangel beat against the hard cover of the book he held. It had become the sound of evil, of pain, of domination and of destruction, and it made Jack’s blood run cold.

 

He was unaware of how long he stared at the Master’s tapping fingers before the Time Lord closed his book and stretched. He stood and approached Jack. “You’ve wised up, Jack,” he said. “You didn’t get yourself caught up in the Doctor’s most recent foolish plan.”

 

Jack remained silent. Two could play at this game.

 

“I really shouldn’t take my anger with the Doctor out on you, except whatever I do to you, you ultimately live through,” the Master said.

 

Jack looked at the Master through heavy lidded eyes, he knew something ugly and painful was about to happen. He’d refused to participate in the Doctor’s harebrained scheme yet he was about to pay the price for its failure anyway. Jack couldn’t win and it made him despair.

 

The Master’s flunky handed him a wicked bladed knife. Jack steeled himself when he felt the cold metal of the blade against the side of his throat where the Master pressed it against his skin. “Maybe if I kill you a few times I’ll feel better.” Slowly, the Master drew the blade across Jack’s throat.

 

Blood flowed heavily from the wound, coursing freely down the front of Jack’s naked body. He heard himself choking and gasping. The sharp metal had sliced through vital structures and Jack felt his life slowly ebb. Then he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to scream but his throat was sliced clean through and anything that would have made a sound was severed. Jack sagged against his restraints as he bled to death.

 

He gasped back into the world of the living and bit back a groan of pain as he looked around quickly. He was still chained, still naked, still guarded and still in the presence of the Master.

 

Well, fuck.

 

The Master sat in his chair reading, his fingers tapped out the menacing rhythm. Jack stood as still as he could and kept as quiet as he was able. He tried not calling attention to himself and avoiding the Master’s ire. Jack knew he was fooling himself. The Time Lord knew he’d revived. He’d turn his attention to Jack when he was ready.

 

The Master turned several pages in the book before he seemed to take notice of Jack again. He stood and stretched then turned to regard Jack. “A little slower this time, I should think.” The Master said, almost to himself.

 

Jack refused to make eye contact with the Time Lord as he steeled himself for the next death.

 

Jack watched the Master take up his long bladed knife again. He moved to Jack’s left side and the cold metal tip pressed between two of his ribs. The Master pulled his arm back and drove the heel of his hand into the hilt of the knife, thrusting it between Jack’s ribs and up into his chest cavity.

 

“Fuck,” Jack said between clenched teeth.

 

The Master stepped around until he was on Jack’s right side. He laid the tip of the knife between two ribs and once again hammered it into Jack’s body.

 

This time Jack growled loudly at the pain.

 

“Yes, I should think that would do it,” the Master mused before returning to his book.

 

Jack was fucking sick of dying. He was tired of being afraid all the time. He would give almost anything for a respite from his dread of the Master’s attention on him.

 

Jack’s knees weakened and he couldn’t force himself to stand anymore. His chest burned with each wet gasp for breath and it grew harder and harder to suck air into his overtaxed lungs. Jack coughed painfully and tasted blood on his own lips. He was dying. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to die again. As much as the wounds hurt, the pain of revival was excruciating and Jack dreaded his return to life. He cursed silently when it occurred to him the Master would plunge him right back down into oblivion as soon as Jack resurrected. The Master didn’t look up once as Jack’s pained, wet gasps echoed through his cell. Still, he was sure the Time Lord knew the exact instant that he died.

 

Jack had no time to register his resurrection when the Master leaped up from his chair and plunged his knife into Jack’s sternum. With all his strength the Time Lord drove the blade up into Jack’s newly beating heart and twisted. Jack cried out in shock and agony.

 

The knife clattered loudly to the floor as the Master reached his hands up to grasp Jack’s head. The Time Lord held him still with his cruel grip. “Look at me, Jack,” he ordered.

 

He tried not to. Jack tried not to look at the Master’s hard, crazed eyes. His chin was gripped harshly in one of the Master’s hands as he tried to force the eye contact. Jack felt himself weakening. He was tempted to give in to the Master’s demands. That was unacceptable, unthinkable. He resisted the urge with all his will.

 

“I told you to look at me, Jack. Your defiance is going to get one of your precious kiddies hurt.”

 

That got Jack’s attention; he snapped his eyes up to meet the Master’s. He swallowed hard at the pain and the fear and the insanity he saw in the Time Lord’s gaze.

 

“You’re still resisting me, Jack. What will it take to break you?” The Master returned his hands to the sides of Jack’s face. “Maybe the new pet, hmm? The one called…let me see, what was it again? Oh yes. Ianto.”

 

Jack _knew_ he had to school his features. He could not afford to give away such an insight. He shouldn’t have a favorite amongst his team, but he did. If the Time Lord had any idea that Ianto might be favored, the pain and suffering he would inflict on the younger man would be harsher than anything already done to any of them.

 

The fear and the pain mingled. Jack could once again feel himself slipping into death. He focused on the Master so as to block out all thoughts of Ianto.

 

“That’s better,” the Master said with a terrifying smile. “I want to watch you die, Jack. I want to see the life slip from your eyes. I want to breathe in the last breath from your lungs.”

 

Jack tried to hide the terror that coursed through his body, then suddenly thought better of it. The Master wanted Jack’s surrender. His surrender would keep Gwen and Ianto safe. Jack tried to find some comfort in this but it brought him no peace. The need to fight back nearly overwhelmed him until he realized the only thing keeping him from giving in was pride. His pride was not worth Ianto’s life or Gwen’s life. He let the Master see his fear.

 

As Jack died this time, he held the Master’s eyes and let the sobs escape his lips. He was in pain and he was frightened and he stopped hiding it.

 

The moment the Master saw the shift in Jack his own eyes took on a new expression. Jack read it as arousal. Jack’s fear turned the Master on. He was powerless against that kind of sickness. As Jack died he had a sinking feeling he and his team were doomed.

 

Jack drew his first breath and again his eyes focused on the Master.

 

“That was so fun, Jack! Let’s do it again.” The Time Lord stood before Jack, his knife resting threateningly at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “I was just reading that this was how the Romans executed high-ranking prisoners.” As he said this last word, the Master sank the knife into Jack’s shoulder to be met with a fountain of blood. “I see why they liked this!” the Master crowed delightedly as he withdrew the blade and stepped back to watch the blood gush from Jack’s wound.

 

Jack had an overwhelming desire to try to staunch his own wound, but he found himself brought up short by his restraints. He saw the Master step forward to run his hands through the blood running down Jack’s chest. The Time Lord ran his hands over Jack’s skin and down his belly, smearing the blood as he went. He seemed to revel in the warm stickiness. Jack felt sick at the Master’s very evident state of arousal brought on by Jack’s blood and pain.

 

As Jack died, he wondered how many more times he was going to have to endure this. The Master’s kink for blood didn’t bode well for his future.

 

Jack came back to himself and found the Master’s chair empty before him. He had no time to register how this might be a good thing before he heard the psychotic Time Lord speak from behind him.

 

“Do you know what a pike is, Jack?”

 

Before he could answer, Jack felt cold metal ease between his thighs and press up against the core of his body. He mindlessly moved away from the dangerous intimacy. Such a touch always meant pain and death here on the _Valiant_ and Jack’s fear ruled him. Visions of castration flashed across Jack’s brain. He felt the metal tip scratch across his most intimate flesh as he desperately tried to avoid its touch. Sliced or impaled, it didn’t matter. Jack only knew he had to get away.

 

“Ancient Earth armies used to place their prisoners on pikes to scare their enemies. Make them think twice about going into battle.” The Master ran a hand over Jack arse cheeks and up over his back. “The book says it’s a rather excruciating way to die. When you come back this time, you’ll have to tell me if that’s so.”

 

Jack screamed and swore as the metal weapon between his thighs was thrust up into his body. It was sharpened to such a point his tender flesh parted readily before the pike’s progress. Jack’s gut felt as though it was on fire. His body was moving of its own accord, trying to remove itself from the object bringing him such agony. There was no way to avoid it. Jack heard his own voice growing hoarse as he screamed on and on.

 

The Master twisted whatever weapon he had buried inside Jack and the pain flared anew, wrenching more anguished screams from his throat.

 

Jack plummeted toward unconsciousness. He didn’t have the strength to react when the Master withdrew the offending weapon and let it clatter to the floor. He stepped around to Jack’s face and grasped it once again. The Time Lord pressed his lips to Jack’s as he slid once again into death.

……………………………………**..**

 

When Jack awoke, the Master was gone. guards lowered him gently to the floor. Francine and Tish hovered close by with basins of water and clean cloths. The women’s hands were gentle, the water warm, and their words soothing as they cleaned away his blood once again. his blood still on the floor of the cell. Footprints had been tracked through the puddle and around the room. One of the guards came in . It served only to smear his drying blood around the floor. The guaking the puddle larger, spreading it throughout the room. Jack had to look away, the sight was making him sick.

 

“You tell the Doctor this is on his head,” Jack said with more venom than he thought he could muster. “This is the price we pay for his failed plans.”

 

“Shh shh shh,” Francine whispered. “That’s the pain and the trauma talking, Captain.”

 

“No. He drags the people around him into his causes then he abandons them when he has what he wants,” Jack said tiredly. “I’m not risking my team for him to get free, then leave us to the Master’s tender mercies.”

 

“He cares about you!” she argued. “He asks about you all the time.”

 

“He wants to make sure I’ll be around to do what he wants me to do. It’s not that he cares about _me_. Not the way I care about my team.” Jack was so tired. He felt weary down to his bones, and overwhelmed with desperation to protect his team. It angered him that the Doctor kept looking to him for participation in these ill-fated plans to distract the Master.

 

“We’ll need you when Martha comes back,” Francine said. “Not the Doctor. Us. Tish and Martha and I.”

 

“I’ll do anything I can for you ladies. I just won’t do it because the Doctor wants me to.”

 

“That’s enough talk for now,” Francine chided, running a gentle hand through his hair. “You deserve some peace and some rest.”

………………………………………………**..**

 

Jack dozed on his feet in the deep of the ship’s night. The humidity was still hell, but the thrum of the _Valiant’s_ engines had become comforting to him.

 

He needed some peace. He needed an escape. Just for a little while. Jack dug deep for a thought, a memory that could comfort. There were so many bad ones he tried to avoid. Parts of his childhood had been horrific. His teens had been spent at war. During his early adult years he’d been a righteous bastard.

 

He’d made changes, though. During his time on Earth he’d become a different person. He was saving lives instead of taking them. He was protecting people instead of conning them out of their money and treasured possessions. He had tried to become a better man.

 

Torchwood had not been without its pain. Many friends had died over time. As beloved as Jack’s current team was to him, they had their issues. At times he felt as though he was a secondary school teacher, but they always came through for him when he needed them to. They looked to him for leadership, guidance, reassurance, and support. Jack tried to be the man they all thought he was. He loved his team unconditionally. Faults, weaknesses, skewed beliefs and all. He loved them all the same way he hoped to be loved one day.

 

He was so grateful they couldn’t see him now.

 

Jack remembered the last time he’d been helpless to control events around himself. It had been Ianto who had held him up when he had stumbled that time. The night John Ellis had taken his own life, Jack had returned to the Hub in a dangerously dark mood, but Ianto had stood firm and seen to him until it and the dark night had passed.

 

Before that, it had been the second time Suzie had died. Jack had been headed for a dark place when Ianto shone a bright light on him with that damn stopwatch. The two of them had gone from mutual attraction to mutual blame and betrayal. They had found mutual forgiveness and absolution in one another. They had sought and found comfort.

 

Before Ianto, Jack couldn’t remember the last time anyone had wrapped their arms around him and asked no questions, made no demands. A sense of warmth invaded his being. If he allowed himself, he might even admit he felt a little bit of happiness when he remembered those moments. Jack wanted so badly to feel those arms around him now.

 

He had found his comforting memories. His mental refuge. This was where he was going the next time the Master turned his attentions on Jack. He was going to go back to Ianto’s arms.

…………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 71

 

 

The guards came for him late in the day and Jack felt nothing but apprehension. He walked through the halls with his escort in silence, tension palpable between them. The very worst times so far had happened when they had taken him to the Master’s room. Jack knew it. The guards knew it.

 

Francine awaited him again. They moved quietly through their routine of cleaning Jack up, her tone always low and comforting, and her hands always competent and gentle. He had a genuine affection for Martha’s mother. If a silver lining was to be had in all this, the showers were it. Still, it wasn’t nearly enough.

 

Francine finished with his hair. Jack suspected it was her way of trying to mother him. “He didn’t leave you clothing this time.”

 

Jack sighed heavily. He knew first hand how torturers break down their subjects. Isolation, humiliation, pain. Depriving him of clothing increased his feelings of helplessness in a situation where he was already well aware of his vulnerability.

 

He couldn’t have done it better himself.

……………………………………………………**..**

 

Jack sat, still wrapped in his towel. He picked at the food Tish had brought. He appreciated it, but his stomach was still twisted into a painful knot at the thought that the Master was coming for him.

 

The Time Lord blew into the room, slammed the door and engaged the isomorphic lock. “Evening, Jack,” he said conversationally, coming to sit in the opposite chair. “Sorry I’ve neglected you lately.”

 

”Have you neglected me? Funny, I hadn’t noticed.”

 

“Had my hands full for a time,” the Master continued as if he and Jack were taking tea. “You have my attention now, though. In fact, I’ve given instructions that we’re not to be disturbed for the entire night.”

 

Jack’s heart pounded in his chest, and he felt physically sick. His bravado was taking a toll on his body and mind.

 

The Master heaved a heavy sigh and regarded Jack with a sad expression. “You’re still resisting me, Jack. Come now. You know it’s useless.”

 

It was true. Jack _did_ know it was useless. He feared that in spite of his best intentions of keeping his team safe, Jack was not going to be able to give it up. He realized he was going to have to be broken. He was sickened by the realization that he _wanted_ to be broken. He wanted it over with. Jack wanted the decision taken from his hands.

 

The Master gave Jack a slow shake of his head. “Well, if you insist on going about this the hard way, let’s get started.” He pushed himself out of his chair and moved to the foot of the bed, opening a large chest. He removed a set of heavy manacles, similar to the ones that held Jack in his cell day after day. The Master tossed the restraints into Jack’s lap. “Put them on,” he ordered.

 

When Jack had the metal fastened around his wrists, he looked up and saw the Master had hung a thick chain from the ceiling, short in length and with a carabineer on the end.

 

“Step over here, Jack.” The Master sounded almost bored. Jack rose and stepped toward the Time Lord. He felt the towel torn roughly from around his hips. “You have no need for this.”

 

Jack stood beneath the chain. The Master made an upward gesture and Jack by lifted his hands over his head. The Master secured his hands and left Jack suspended, stretched to his full height and then some.

 

Reaching back into the chest, the Master withdrew an electric baton.

 

“Before we start the real fun,” the Master said, “we’re going to have to work on your manners.” The Time Lord stepped in close to Jack and waved the baton in front of his face. “If you insist on doing this the hard way, I’ll just have to indulge you.”

 

The Master pressed the button that powered up the baton then stepped back to regard Jack.

 

pressed the business end of the baton to Jack’s chest and he felt high-voltage electricity rip through his entire body.

 

Jack didn’t scream so much as he yelled. He yelled in pain. He yelled in anger.

 

“Say my name, Jack,” the Master said when he pulled the baton away.

 

Jack breathed heavily and his chest heaved with exertion. He cast his eyes skyward and thought about seeking non-existent divine guidance. He had no control of anything anymore, so why was he hanging on to this?

 

The Master pressed the baton into the soft flesh of Jack’s side and his body clenched and arched against the voltage. He yelled again. He kept yelling. He flailed uselessly in his bonds and he kept yelling.

 

The Master once again ended the pain. “One little word, Jack. That’s all it would take to make this stop forever.”

 

Jack sobbed in response. He was on the verge of giving the Master his tears, so why did he refuse to just say the name? He wished desperately for the Time Lord to just take it from him. In his anguish, Jack realized he needed and wanted the Master to just tear it all from him. All of his pride, all of his resistance.

 

He saw the Master shift the baton from one hand to the other. Jack tensed in preparation, squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. It still failed to keep his tortured cries from being torn from his throat. His agonized muscles clenched and Jack twisted helplessly in his bonds.

 

Helpless. As the Master ended the torment for the moment, the word helpless was running through Jack’s head. The situation was helpless. _He_ was helpless. He drew breath to say the dreaded name but found he couldn’t quite make his lips form the sounds.

 

The Master pressed the baton into Jack’s other side and he twitched and swung like a rag doll in a windstorm. His throat was sore from his cries and he could hear it fading.

 

anguished cries sounded as if they were being ripped from someone els, shuddering breath and said, "Master." His voice was a whisper, the Time Lord, followed almost immediately by shame.

 

“I didn’t hear you, Jack,” the Master’s voice was cold and hard.

 

The whisper had taken so much from Jack that he wasn’t able to say it again, let alone in a louder voice.

 

The voltage from the baton pressed to his belly shot through him and caught him by surprise. Jack threw his head back and let out one last strangled, feral cry before he shouted, “Master!”

 

The pain stopped and Jack sagged in his chains, a broken man.

………………………………………………………**.**

 

Jack was hardly aware of the Master when he caressed and fondled him. He could only be thankful that his team couldn’t see him now.

 

Not so strong now. Not so capable. Some leader. Some captain. What would they all think? What would Ianto think? Why would they ever follow him again if they saw him hanging here naked and vulnerable, surrendering to the Master completely?

 

Jack was roused by a rude slap on his arse.

 

“Stand up straight now, Jack,” the Master ordered. “I need to get you unfastened so we can go to bed.”

 

Jack tried to pull the shreds of his dignity around himself as he stood up straight. His mind flashed to Ianto and how the young man had returned to work after his suspension with his head high, taking pride in his work once again. Ianto had been battered and bruised and damn near broken but he’d latched onto his dignity with an iron grip until he’d come out the other side and started to heal.

 

Jack determined he would do no less.

 

The Master detached Jack’s wrists from the ceiling chain but he made no move to remove the manacles. “Face down on the bed,” he ordered.

 

Jack silently complied. His heart sank when he realized he wasn’t going to be returned to his cell. In the past he’d either been tortured _or_ raped. Never both in the same day. He’d caved. He’d given in and still, his abuse was going to continue. What had he done it for? Jack felt a sense of betrayal and then laughed silently at himself for his foolishness, his naïveté.

 

He lay on the bed, head between his arms, burrowing into a pillow to hide his heated face. Jack felt the bed dip and the Master secure his wrists to the bed itself.

 

Things went from bad to worse.

 

Jack refused to cringe as the Master ran his hands over his naked form. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, Jack? What am I saying? Of course I have. Then again you know it already, don’t you?”

 

He tried to tune the Master out, but his head was suddenly jerked back painfully by a fist in his hair.

 

“We’ve come so far today. Let’s not go back to old habits now.”

 

“Yes, Master,” Jack said in a low voice. It almost didn’t hurt to say anymore. Almost.

 

His hair was released and the Master let his hands wander over Jack’s skin again. Jack closed his eyes and chose to think of Ianto’s hands running over him instead.

 

Jack felt a pat on his hip and barely suppressed a flinch. “Lift up for me.” Damn if the Master didn’t sound like an enthusiastic lover.

 

Jack came to his knees and felt pillows being placed beneath him. He settled himself back down and focused on his breathing. If he stayed relaxed, kept his mind on more pleasant things, Jack tried to tell himself it would all be over soon.

 

The Master forced Jack’s thighs apart with cruel hands and Jack felt those same hands run up over his bare arse. He felt the Time Lord grip his arse cheeks painfully before sliding back down to his thighs. Jack felt his balls grasped roughly. He stifled a groan and struggled not to pull away.

 

“Oh, am I hurting you, Jack?” the Master taunted as he grasped Jack’s ball sac even more tightly. “I would have thought you were the type of man who liked a little pain with his sex.”

 

Jack bit his tongueany kind of chwould cost h’d pay with

 

The Master squeezed Jack’s sac and this time he pulled down. Hard. Jack couldn’t control his pained groan this time and he fisted his hands into the coverlet. He moved back toward the Master’s hand in a vain attempt to alleviate the pain.

 

“Tell me you like the pain,” the Master ordered. “Admit to me you like it when I hurt you.”

 

“Yes, Master,” Jack said.

 

The Time Lord yanked down hard on Jack’s balls and dragged a loud groan from his throat this time. “You’re not listening to me, Jack. I said tell me you like pain.”

 

“I like pain, Master.”

 

“Tell me you like it when I hurt you.”

 

“I like it when you hurt me, Master.” Jack heard his own voice quiver in despair.

 

“You know I never could deny you anything, Captain!” the Master said gleefully, finally releasing Jack’s balls.

 

Jack forced himself to relax. He listened to the sound of his own steady breathing. The Master moved around behind him and Jack tried not to think what that might mean.

 

He was startled by the sensation of a cold, viscous liquid being drizzled between his arse cheeks. Lubricant, obviously. He could almost relax.

 

“Just so you know, the lubricant is for me,” the Master informed Jack. “I know how much you love the pain I cause you, and I wouldn’t want to deny you that pleasure.”

 

“Thank you, Master,” Jack said. Placating the Master was already becoming easier and Jack tasted bitter defeat on his tongue.

 

Jack felt the Master’s hand spread the lube around his arse. More of the liquid was drizzled on to him. A lot more. The cleft of Jack’s arse was dripping with lube. The Master’s hand felt as though it was saturated. It seemed a bit excessive given his past experience with the Time Lord.

 

“Now the fun starts,” the Master said, seemingly to himself.

 

Jack felt a finger slide inside his opening. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was home. Home in Ianto’s flat with him, instead of this unhinged Time Lord.

 

“You have a surprisingly tight ass, Jack. Given your reputation I would have thought you’d be a little looser.” The Master slid a second finger into Jack. “Are you possibly _not_ the greatest lover in the universe after all?”

 

“I only wish to please you, Master.” Jack scared himself at how easily he was slipping further away.

 

A third finger slid its way inside. He felt stretched now but the lube still made it pleasant. “You are pleasing me, Jack. Now I want to please you.”

 

Jack tensed as the fourth finger slid in and they all twisted around inside of him. Things were escalating fast, and he was beginning to feel nervous about where this was headed.

 

The Master’s fingers slid out of Jack. He sighed in relief but had been through enough already to know it wasn’t likely he was going to get off so easy.

 

“Time to see if your reputation is well earned, Jack.”

 

He had no time to prepare. The Master shoved four fingers into Jack’s body in one forceful thrust. In the instant Jack realized what the Master had done he also realized what was still to come. He clenched his teeth until they nearly cracked, gripped the bars of the headboard with both hands and prepared for the assault.

 

The Master followed his four fingers with his thumb. When all five of the Time Lord’s digits were inside of Jack’s body he curled his hand into a tight fist. Jack’s chest heaved with every breath and he alternated between pained groans and desperate gasps. The Master let his fist rest for a few moments before he locked his arm and used his weight to push.

 

Jack bit down on his bottom lip until he drew his own blood in a vain attempt to keep himself silent. “Fuck,” he cried loudly. The bed shook as the Master’s fist shoved Jack toward the headboard.

 

“I am, Jack. I am.” Jack heard the smile in the Master’s voice and it made his blood run cold. The Master withdrew his fist partially before forcing it deep inside Jack once again. He pulled back, and Jack felt a hand on his shoulder as the Master used his body for leverage, pulling him back at the same time he rammed his fist inside of Jack.

 

Jack tried to bury his sob in the pillow beneath his head but he knew the Master heard it.

 

“Does this feel good?” the Time Lord panted lewdly into Jack’s back.

 

“Yes, Master.” The words tripped easily off of his lips now.

 

“Tell me.” The Time Lord placed a perverse kiss between Jack’s shoulders.

 

“It feels good, Master,” Jack gasped through the pain. He felt as though he were being torn apart. All the lube in the world couldn’t offset the brutality of it. Jack felt used, degraded. The Time Lord’s touch, the violence of his thrusts left Jack feeling soiled.

 

“You adore the pain, don’t you?” Jack heard the Master hiss.

 

“I like the pain, Master,” Jack growled as the Time Lord rammed his fist fully inside of him again.

 

The Master found a rhythm and Jack discovered he could relax a little. He pressed his forehead into the pillow beneath him. Jack closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound of the Master’s obscene breathing. He conjured up a memory of Ianto.

 

_Their first night together in Ianto’s flat, when he’d first caught of glimpse of the beautiful young man reflected in the window while Jack fucked him. _

 

_Their first forgiveness fuck after Lisa’s death. _

 

_Their comfort fuck after the cannibals. _

 

_Their last kiss. Their last kiss had been their first kiss after he’d been dead for so very long. _

 

Jack was so deep inside his memories that he was startled at the sudden withdrawal of the Master’s fist from his body. He was unsteady for a moment even though he was still on all fours. Suddenly, what felt like hot coals and broken glass were being shoved up his arse by the handful. The bed rocked as Jack violently grasped the headboard again. His body arched in pain and a scream was torn from his throat. “Oh, Christ! Fuck!”

 

Whatever the Master shoved up his arse, it ripped Jack to shreds on the inside. He felt his blood begin to mingle with what was left of the lubricant. Jack had no idea what the Master had done to him, he couldn’t see. He only knew it felt like a fist full of razorblades.

 

Jack was so bloody and abused that all fight fled his body. He was weak and broken. He sobbed into the pillow beneath his head and felt his blood soak into the bed around him. He just waited for the torment to end. Jack was shuddering now, the entire bed shook with the contractions of his beleaguered muscles. Only his blood and tears were functioning now.

 

He had no idea how much time passed before the horrific item in his arse was removed. Something landed on the pillow next to his head. Jack opened his eyes as much as he could to see what it was.

 

Jack saw a glove. A cloth glove saturated in his own blood and covered in the sharp-cut points of precious gems. The Master had used his fist to shred Jack from the inside.

 

As he once again bled out, Jack felt the Master wrap the duvet around his body. He appreciated the warmth as his blood loss made him cold. No sooner was he warm then Jack realized he was going to lie there and die soon. Without warning he was shoved violently off the bed and on to the floor.

 

“You understand I can’t have you up here bleeding all over my bed, Jack.” The Master said as he climbed between the sheets.

 

Jack was struck in the head with a pillow. “You can sleep here tonight. You don’t have to thank me. You’ll be taken back to your cell in the morning.”

 

Jack died.

 

His next conscious thought was that he lay on the ground in the dark. Jack’s memories flooded back and he remembered where he was and how he’d gotten there. He’d healed. The pain in his body was gone. There were other pains that lingered, though. Jack steadfastly refused to think of those pains and what they meant. He didn’t want to think and he didn’t want to feel. For the time being he endeavored to just shut it all off.

 

Jack sorted the coverlet so that he had as clean a portion of it as possible. It was saturated with his blood, and it stiffened as his blood dried. There wasn’t much of it that was still clean. Jack placed the pillow beneath his head and curled around himself. He intended to sleep as much as possible. If he couldn’t sleep, he would at least lie there through the night and enjoy the cooler temperature and the quiet.

 

As he was settled in, Jack felt something scratch his arm. He pulled it from within the folds of the coverlet and saw that is was the glove. The brutal, blood soaked glove. He chucked in across the room as if it had bitten him. In a way it had.

………………………………………………………**..**

 

As it turned out the Master didn’t require much sleep either. Just a few hours in and he rose from the bed. He left Jack undisturbed as he showered, dressed and left the room.

 

Several hours later, when ship’s day was restored and there was light again in the room, Francine appeared. She saw Jack on the floor and knelt down beside him to run a hand through his hair.

 

Jack no longer pretended to be asleep, but he didn’t have the strength to move either.

 

“Are you going to be okay, Captain?” Francine asked.

 

“I’ll be fine.” He hoped he didn’t sound too pathetic.

 

Francine didn’t answer, and Jack supposed there was really nothing she _could _say.

 

Tish came in a short while later. Jack had closed his eyes and just lay drifting, listening to the soft, low voices of mother and daughter as they spoke to one another.

 

Jack felt movement next to him and he opened his eyes to see Francine lay out a fresh duvet on the floor beside him. She folded it several times. Tish handed her mother a pillow from the bed. Together they unwrapped Jack from the bloodied coverlet he had spent the night wrapped in.

 

“Slide over, Captain,” Francine told him in a mother’s tone. Gentle and coaxing but brooking no resistance.

 

Jack mustered just enough energy to move himself over onto the makeshift bed the ladies had fashioned. He collapsed with a sigh. He felt Francine tuck a soft, warm blanket around his body.

 

Tish and Francine whispered to each other briefly before a body lay down behind him, spooning him in a fashion similar to Ianto. Jack felt comforted. He realized the body belonged to Tish when she placed her head on the pillow beside his.

 

“You just relax, Captain. Mum’s going to clean the room. Change the linens.” She ran a hand over his body. He felt her run a palm over his back, his arm, his chest. It was a comforting touch, not an arousing one. The gentle concern for him brought tears to his eyes. “When she’s done we’ll get you cleaned up and fed. In the meantime just lay here and let us handle everything.”

 

Jack felt himself settle back against Tish’s warmth. He accepted what she offered. Unconditional comfort. She continued to run a soothing hand over his body. She hummed a soft tune as she shared his pillow.

 

“Thank you, Tish,” Jack whispered, thankful for the comfort she offered. The contact without demands or pain.

 

“Shh, Captain,” Tish whispered back and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re welcome. Now just rest for awhile.”

 

And Jack did.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Day 105

Jack’s life had become endless days of pain, torture, rape, blood and death. The Master was bloody brilliant at thinking up innovative ways to hurt and humiliate Jack.

 

Although he lost track of the time, he was later told that it was the hundred and fifth day of ‘the year that never was’ when the Master got his hands on Toshiko Sato.

 

Tosh had not managed to take down Archangel, but she had managed to be a significant thorn in the Master’s side.

 

He couldn’t restrain a small smile when Tish brought him the news. _That’s my girl, Tosh._

 

“She’s had recent contact with Martha,” Tish whispered as she fed Jack his morning gruel.

 

“Then Martha’s okay?” Jack asked.

 

“Yes. She’s had some rough times but she’s alive and well it seems,” Tish said, struggling to hide a smile.

 

“That’s good news.” Jack gave her a wink.

 

“I’m sorry your friend Toshiko got caught, though,” Tish said soberly.

 

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

 

“They have each other,” she said, trying to comfort him. “The guards all say the three of them are being kept together. They’re treated fairly well as long as you keep submitting to the Master.”

 

“Good. That’s why I do it.” A thought occurred to Jack and it made his blood run cold. “Their guards don’t tell them anything about me, do they?”

 

“I don’t think so, Captain,” Tish said, confused.

 

“They can’t know.” Jack was adamant. “They can’t know anything about me up here.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“If they knew what I was going through to ensure their safety they might do something foolish like try to escape.”

 

“Can’t they know you’re alive, at least?”

 

“That’s all they can know, Tish!” Jack said. “I’m being held up here to ensure the Doctor’s good behavior and I’m fine. That’s all they need to be told.”

 

“I’ll pass the word,” Tish assured him. They were silent for a time while she fed Jack. “You care a great deal for them. They’re more than employees to you.”

 

“They’re my family.” Jack said.

…………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 117

 

 

Jack and everyone else discovered the reason for the Master’s good mood later that day. The guards wrapped a thick leather belt around his waist. The rings on the side of the belt secured his manacles. Jack stood with his elbows bent and his hands locked into his sides.

 

The guard who always showed him the most kindness stepped in front of him and stood until Jack met his eyes. “Captain, listen to me carefully.” Jack furrowed his brow. The guard rarely addressed him directly and the novelty of it caused tendrils of fear to creep up Jack’s spine. “He told me to tell you that if you resist him at any time today, or anyone tries to intervene on your behalf, he’s going to kill one of your team in front of you.”

 

Jack nodded his understanding. The same threat had hung over his head for weeks. Months. Why would the Master think their arrangement had changed?

 

“It will be Miss Sato,” the guard said simply. “I think he believes because she’s small and delicate that her death will cause you the most pain.” The guard smiled ruefully. “He has no idea how much of hellcat she is, giving the guards a hell of a time.”

 

Jack smiled at that. _That’s my girl._

 

“I think he wanted me to tell you this so you’d understand no one is going to come to your aid today,” the guard said. “It’s one thing to submit when you’re alone with him.” The man dropped his voice. “It’s another to have to do it in a room full of people you know and not have a single one of them lift a finger to help.”

 

A chill ran down Jack’s spine at the other man’s words. Not only was he right, but it gave Jack some idea of what he was facing today. His pain and humiliation were going public.

 

“I understand,” Jack said.

 

They reached the control room and sure enough, everyone was there, plus a few faces Jack didn’t recognize. Martha’s entire family huddled to one side, and the Doctor sat limply in a wheelchair. Lucy Saxon wandered aimlessly around the room, dressed in an evening gown, a vacant look in her eyes. There were other beautiful women strung across the room in similar dresses. It appeared the Master was holding court.

 

The guards paused with him just inside the door of the lift. Jack turned to one of the young women standing nearby. “Hello!” He gave her a wide smile. “Captain Jack Harkness.”

 

The young woman obliged him with a blush and a smile before she dropped her eyes.

 

“Oh, will you stop it!” the Master called from the raised area of the room. “Besides, it’s useless. When you’re done with your little show today, no one here will ever see you the same way again.”

 

At a gesture from the Master, Jack was forced toward the stairs. He walked with his head high, gathering his dignity around him as best he could.

 

“Now that the entertainment is here, we can get this party started!” the Master addressed the room from the top of the stairs. “Thank you all for joining me for my celebration. I now have the whole of North America under my control and my missile sites are all under way.”

 

Jack was led up the steps.

 

“I wanted to share this joyous occasion with you all,” the Master included all the occupants of the room with a wide gesture of his arms. “We haven’t had any together time since we watched Japan burn.”

 

The guard led Jack to stand beside a clear box roughly the size of an old-fashioned phone booth. They turned him to face everyone as they watched events unfold.

 

“As entertaining as that spectacle was,” the Master continued as he came to stand before Jack, “I’ve something a bit more intimate planned for us today.”

 

Jack felt the crowd’s tension. They were at as much of a loss as he was. Their apprehension was palpable as they all stood, faces turned toward him, waiting with him to find out what torment he would be subjected to today.

 

The guards unfastened Jack’s restraints. Two more guards pulled hoses from ceiling panels above them. When the time came for Jack to be stripped, a murmur moved through the room’s occupants. The increase in the volume of the room raised Jack’s anxiety measurably. He had never been shy and so was baffled by his subtle embarrassment at standing naked before a room full of people, friends and strangers alike. The faces of the crowd displayed a range of emotion from curiosity to horror and Jack felt a twinge of sympathy for them all. He was going to actively endure the torture while they would only stand by and watch.

 

The Master turned on the crowd with a shout. “I do hope this means you’re looking forward to seeing the good Captain’s assets!”

 

The murmur abated but didn’t totally cease.

 

When Jack was naked his restraints were replaced. The Master drew open the front panel of the box and made a sweeping gesture of invitation. The guards shoved Jack inside. They spun him to face the audience and chained him to the box.

 

In rapid order Jack’s ankles were secured to the floor of the box. A wide band was locked around his chest and he was chained to the roof. Jack was stretched to his full height inside the clear box and was nearly immobile. The band around his chest restricted his breathing painfully.

 

The Master closed the door with a flourish and used his laser screw driver to seal it closed. “No need for an emergency escape plan for the Captain, now is there?”

 

When the water began to rush in from the bottom of the box, Jack realized it was fucking cold. He could no longer deny what this was all about. He was to be drowned, naked, in full sight of everyone in the room.

 

The box was water tight and therefore blocked sound. Between that and the rushing water, Jack could no longer hear the Master’s words. He only saw the Time Lord gesticulating grandly, pointing occasionally toward Jack. The faces of the crowd reflected their fear and their outrage on his behalf and he felt strangely appreciative.

 

The water was rose quickly. It already reached his knees. It was cold. Very cold. Cold would make him hypothermic, and Jack hoped that would make drowning a little less horrific. Somehow he doubted it.

 

The freezing water reached his groin. If his ‘assets’, as the Master had called them, weren’t already shriveled in fear and humiliation, they were surely shriveled from the cold.

 

Jack moved against his bonds experimentally. They were sturdy and strong. He didn’t have enough reach to even think about testing the strength of the box. It was robust because it was designed to hold water. He just couldn’t figure out why he was secured to the roof by his chest.

 

The water was waist deep now. Jack saw the Master sitting at the table on the lower level, his feet propped up while one of the pretty young women rubbed his shoulders. Francine and Tish clung to one another in the back of the room, compassion written all over their faces.

 

The Doctor watched impassively from his wheelchair. His face bore a disinterested expression and in that moment, Jack’s anger shifted completely to the Doctor. This entire sad situation was all the Doctor’s fault. At every turn he failed to stop the Master’s plans. He’d gotten his TARDIS stolen, he’d gotten them captured, and now he sat uselessly in his chair, watching everyone’s suffering without a change in expression.

 

The water reached Jack’s chest and he shivered violently, his breathing harsh. His eye caught the Doctor’s again. The Doctor was responsible for Jack’s very first death and he’d never acknowledged that. He’d run out on Jack. Left him stranded. Because of that callous act, Jack’s own actions had led them right to where they were now.

 

The water was to his shoulders and he continued to shiver violently. Jack’s bones ached from the cold and his fingers and toes were numb. When the water reached Jack’s neck, he did his best to take long, slow, deep breaths. He couldn’t escape the water but some natural response made him lift his chin in a vain attempt to evade it for as long as possible.

 

In spite of the water, Jack’s mouth was dry from fear. He swallowed reflexively and heard himself gasp. He made fearful noises that echoed off the walls of his see-through cage.

 

The water reached his chin and Jack lifted his head as high as he could. The restraints on his ankles didn’t allow him to stand on tip-toe. He caught sight of some of the faces in the crowd, but not all of them still faced him. Some had been forced to turn away. Those that still witnessed his torture reflected his own pain and fear.

 

Jack felt panic set in as the level of the water crept up his face. Inch by tortuous inch it crawled up past his mouth. He got one last deep breath in through his nose before air was completely out of his reach.

 

He was fully engulfed in the water and all of his senses were muted. If it weren’t so goddamn horrific it would be peaceful.

 

The level of the water must have reached the top of the box since the sound of the flow ceased as if someone had closed the spigot. The sudden lack of sound was deafening and increased Jack’s panic. His chest hurt, his lungs burned and he knew he couldn’t hold his breath much longer. His need to surface and suck in air was overwhelming and Jack struggled in his chains. It didn’t matter that even if he could escape the chains there was no space above for him to take a breath. Pure animal instinct was in charge now, and its scream echoed through his skull for him to inhale.

 

Jack felt the water rush into his lungs and set them afire. His muscles convulsed painfully and his entire body arched agonizingly. He thrashed against his bindings as his chest tried to expel the deadly water that had invaded it. He tried to sob, he tried to scream but there was no air in his lungs so Jack suffered in silence. The cold of the water seeped deeper into his bones and a sudden sense of peace overtook him. As if from a great distance, Jack watched the occupants of the room as they witnessed his first death of the day. His pain eased as Jack slid toward the darkness and he didn’t understand why everyone around him seemed so upset. His convulsions became small tremors and he wanted to tell his friends in the room around him that he was okay. It was quiet and peaceful and he didn’t want them to worry about him any more. A few final small tremors and Jack finally died.

………………………………………………**.**

 

Jack usually came back to life with one large gasp of air so his return from drowning was awkward, painful and difficult because his lungs were still filled with water.

 

He forced a small cough and expelled a small amount of water. Jack reflexively sucked in what little bit of air he could. He managed a larger cough this time which meant more water evacuated. Jack coughed violently now. He lost control as water streamed from his mouth and nose which made each breath easier. Each inhalation drew in just a little more air than the one before and before he knew it Jack was breathing automatically, almost normally.

 

Jack’s breathing evened out and he realized all of his weight was supported by the band around his chest. It didn’t make his breathing any easier. He struggled to put his weight on his legs and after a few determined tries he actually succeeded. The pain in his chest eased and he was relieved. Jack realized now what the purpose of chaining him to the lid of the box was. He was held upright inside while the water drained away. He was completely on display to the occupants of the room for the Master’s sick pleasure.

 

Jack both heard and felt the water begin again to flow into his death chamber. He kicked himself mentally for letting down his guard. The Master had a hard-on for Jack’s unlimited ability to revive. He was downright obsessed with inflicting repeated deaths.

 

The first time through a death was painful enough. To have to relive an identical death within moments of the first meant his memory of the experience was fresh in Jack’s mind. The recent visceral images added to Jack’s fear and panic with each subsequent death. Jack loathed the Master all the more because he employed this tactic.

 

When the water again crept up Jack’s face to finally engulf him, in spite of himself, the memory of his pain when water filled his lungs made him hold his breath even though he knew it was futile. Jack knew he was merely staving off the inevitable. It would all be so much easier if he would just inhale immediately and get it over with. His mind knew this, but his body protested. Loudly.

 

Once again his lungs seared when water rushed into them. Jack’s body struggled to free itself in order to rise to the surface and breathe. He heard the water stop and knew it wasn’t long now.

 

His vision went dark and he died.

 

 

If it wasn’t a matter of survival and torture, Jack’s vanity would object to the rather disgusting way his body expelled the water from his lungs.

 

He remembered this time and got his legs under himself right away to ease the pressure on his chest, which made breathing easier. Jack stood shaking in the chamber and relished the return of air to his lungs.

 

Jack decided this was really getting old fast. It was easy to lose track but he was fairly certain he was up to his sixth death. He should be an old hand at it by now, but he still coughed violently and with very little dignity when he awoke. Jack sobbed each time the flow of water started again. He thrashed in frustration and anger instead of panic, although that was still a part of his final moments.

 

This time when the water rose up over his head, Jack imagined he could feel Ianto’s hand in his own and he drew strength from the thought. He shoved back his panic. Jack willed himself to inhale. It still burned like nobody’s business, but at least he was in control of this death. He chose his moment to breathe in. Jack chose his own moment to die.

………………………………………………**.**

 

As soon as Jack choked out the water that had killed him this past time he drew himself up on to his feet. Somewhere around his tenth death, Jack had to bite back his screams. He was exhausted from the repeated deaths. The anticipation of the next one grated on Jack’s already raw nerves. His only recourse was his screams but his pride demanded he deny the Master that pleasure. Jack always failed to stop all of his screams and they broke free from his lips by the time the water reached his neck. He also inhaled the water to drown his own body intentionally at his first opportunity.

 

Two more deaths and the Master grew bored with the whole affair, much to Jack’s relief. After he unsealed the box that held Jack, the Time Lord strolled around the control room.

 

The guards removed him from the deadly container. They dried him quickly and got him back into his grimy clothing. His wrists were secured and he was bustled out of the room.

 

This was when Jack saw why his torture had been stopped. Today, it hadn’t been about him. It had been about everyone else held captive. The Jones family, the guards and the Doctor all broke at some point during Jack’s ordeal. Watching him die over and over, many times, screaming in agony, had laid everyone low.

 

As he moved into the lift, Jack caught sight of Francine and Tish huddled together on the floor, unable to meet his eyes. Until today they had only heard his screams from a distance and helped him to clean up in the aftermath. They had never been forced to witness Jack’s pain and humiliation. Today the Master had changed all of that and Jack was sure no one in the room would ever be the same again.

………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 127

 

“The Doctor needs your help, Captain,” Francine whispered as she spooned Jack his breakfast.

 

“I once needed his help and he ran out on me,” Jack replied.

 

“_We_ need your help,” she amended.

 

Jack turned his arms palm up to call attention to his chains. “I’m not exactly in a position to help anyone. Including myself,” he said bitterly.

 

“If we can find a way to get you loose you could destroy the paradox machine,” Francine said.

 

Jack shrugged. “I could,” he said. “Why do you need _me_ for that?”

 

“It’s guarded by the Toclafane,” she explained. “You’re the only one that can possibly survive an attack by them.”

 

“And when we fail my team will pay the price,” Jack said roughly.

 

“What if their guards were able to simulate the punishment without harming your team?” Francine asked.

 

“Is that even possible?”

 

“Apparently the Master never visits the facility. He watches all executions remotely.”

 

Jack considered. “I’ll think about it.”

 

In the end, Jack didn’t participate. He just couldn’t gamble with his team’s lives that way. No one could guarantee all the guards would hide the truth or that they could successfully fool the Master. At least for the time being, Jack had a way to ensure their safety, so he was sticking with his own plan.

………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 200

 

Jack lost track of the hours. He thought it had actually been days. There was no way for him to tell. They prevented him from marking the passage of time. The absolute absence of all sound except for his own breathing meant they had him in a sound proof room. Extraordinary pain coursed through his entire body with any subtle movement. Even at rest, his shoulders and legs made him want to scream, but no sound could escape his gag. The wad of cloth stuffed in his mouth had long ago dried him out. His tongue felt like sandpaper and his lips were split. The dark hood they had placed over his head blocked out all light and muffled all sound.

 

They had hoisted him toward the ceiling by his elbows bound behind his back. He was at a height that forced him stand on his toes. The torque on his shoulders was excruciating and the strain on his legs caused him to shake with fatigue. His body burned with the strain and there was no way he could shift that wouldn’t either increase his suffering or just plain dislocate his shoulders.

 

They were keeping the room at a comfortable temperature at least. Their intent was probably the sensory deprivation while his nudity added to his humiliation. Same old party, different birthday.

 

Jack’s only escape during the interminable time he’d been suspended in this room had been the refuge of his own mind. He’d privately mourned the loss of Owen. He’d celebrated Toshiko’s loyalty, dedication and brilliance. In retrospect, Jack was able to laugh at Gwen’s mortification over her mistake on her very first day with Torchwood. He was also able to congratulate himself on his good instincts about her. She was smart, tenacious, determined, intuitive and capable. She had also begun to drag Jack back into the outside world he had closed himself off from. Living and working in the underground hub had disconnected him from life, but Gwen Cooper had dragged him back in, kicking and screaming.

 

Jack worried every day about Ianto. He sat in a cell down on the planet, with no idea how much Jack missed him. He cursed himself for letting his need for answers from the Doctor turn into obsession. Then he wondered when his work with Torchwood had stopped being a means to an end and had become the entire point.

 

Had any two people got off to a stranger start than he and Ianto? How many people could ever get past holding one another at gunpoint? Somehow he and Ianto had found a way.

 

Jack snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the door opening. He focused on the footsteps that entered -- they were soft and there weren’t many. The door was secured again and silence reigned.

 

This was his first visit since he’d been strung up. His heart pounded and his breath was harsh in his own ears. He had no idea what to expect. He might be tortured, he might be raped, and he might be killed over and over until the Master grew bored. The waiting was as awful as anything the Time Lord put him through.

 

Jack jumped at the sudden feel of hands skimming his ribcage. He groaned into his gag as his tortured muscles protested.

 

He felt hot breath on the back of his neck as the Master’s hands slid down over his hips to cup his buttocks. Jack felt teeth sink sharply into his shoulder as one hand glided over his hip to his groin to grasp and fondle his flaccid penis then juggle his balls.

 

“It occurs to me, Jack, that you’ve not come once since you’ve been enjoying my hospitality,” the Master whispered to Jack through the hood. “I really should do something about that, shouldn’t I?”

 

A shudder ran through Jack’s frame. It was to be rape again today. Jack was weary at the thought of his body being violated roughly and painfully. He nearly vomited into his gag.

 

The Master must have felt Jack shiver because he growled into Jack’s ear, “Like the thought of that, do you? Well, maybe next time I take you out to play.”

 

Jack felt the Master’s hands run up and down the sides of his thighs. One hand moved up to glide over his belly and up to his chest. Jack’s skin crawled at the Time Lord’s touch.

 

“As pretty as you are at rest, you are so much more so when your body is strained,” the Master informed him. “Every one of your muscles is tense and quivering. It gives you such definition. You’re like a work of art, Jack.”

 

“You’ve got such beautiful skin,” the Master pressed his lips to Jack’s ear beneath the hood. “I’m going to redden your skin. I’m going to make it livid with color.”

 

Jack’s perceptions shifted violently as he struggled to keep up with the fact that he wasn’t to be raped today, but pain and torture were definitely on the schedule. His mind raced for options. He searched for anything he could say or do that would just stop what he was about to go through.

 

The heat of the Master’s body receded. It was only a few moments before he felt the first blazing blow land on his buttocks. The sickening sound of flesh being smacked with a solid object was loud in the quiet room. Before Jack could stop himself, his body pulled away from the source of the blow, making his shoulders and legs scream in protest.

 

“Caning, Jack. Ever heard of it?” the Master asked casually.

 

Of course he had. He’d used it a time or two during the darker days of his past.

 

“An Earth invention that has found its way through time and space,” the Master lectured Jack like a school boy. “The cane itself varies but some things are always consistent. A thin but heavy wood stick laid across bare flesh in such a manner as to inflict the maximum amount of pain and raise the most beautiful red welts.”

 

Jack remembered some of the objects he’d used to cane. He’d been pretty clever about it in his time.

 

“Sometimes scarring results, but we don’t have to worry about that with you, do we Jack?” the Master landed a blow on Jack’s naked arse and the resulting pain was intense, amplified by the protestations of his muscles when he moved. “I think some nice dark bruises are in order, though.”

 

The hood Jack wore blocked out sight but it only muffled sound. He heard the sickening sound of the cane meeting his own bare flesh with rhythmic smacks. Jack repeatedly twitched in pain and flinched in evasion as the cane moved down the backs of his thighs. His head echoed with the harsh sound of his own rapid breathing. The gag prevented him from gasping deeply through his mouth so his breaths moved painfully in and out of his nose.

 

The Master moved the cane back up Jack’s thighs to scourge already abused flesh. It felt as though his skin was on fire. He wasn’t sure if his skin was blistering or tearing but in his imagination it was both. Jack heard himself scream into his gag.

 

“Your arse is bright red, Jack! It’s a lovely contrast with the rest of your pale skin,” the Master breathed. He sounded to Jack’s ears like an aroused lover admiring his partner’s reactions. The sound turned Jack’s stomach.

 

Jack took jarring blows of the cane on his arse and his lower back. This pain was new. It was sharper. The rod landed on a part of his body with less muscle and flesh and more bone. The pain took Jack’s breath away, and his body shook with each blow. The fatigue in his legs made it feel as though they were going to give out at any moment, but he knew that if they did he would jerk his shoulders out of their sockets. All the while the Master reigned blows along his back, then moved up toward his tortured arms. Each time the cane connected with Jack’s back he jerked away and increased the torque on his shoulders, ripping another muffled scream from his lips.

 

Rough hands grabbed Jack’s hips and tugged them downward to put additional strain on his shoulders. His scream was again muffled by his gag and he started to drift toward unconsciousness. Jack welcomed it.

 

When Jack returned to consciousness, he was still in exquisite pain but now he was on his knees. His arms were still chained behind him at the same tortuous angle but his legs had been given relief. That relief was short lived.

 

“Are you back with us, Jack?” the Master called from somewhere behind him. “We’re far from done here, but there really is no point when you’re not conscious to enjoy it.”

 

The pace of Jack’s breathing picked up again, the sound of it rushing in and out inside his own head. He became aware of the fire raging on his back and buttocks. Jack bit down on his gag when the Master’s hands pinched his inflamed arse cheeks.

 

“You’re red with the welts I’ve given you and the tension in your muscles is rippling along your skin.” The Master’s voice had the tone of a lover again, and Jack thought he might wretch into his gag.

 

The Time Lord stepped away and Jack braced for the worst. Blows landed on the backs of his calves and when he reflexively pulled away he found his ankles were chained to the floor. First Jack had felt like the Master’s whore, his body used on a whim and discarded, the traces of the Time Lord’s lust left behind leaving him feeling filthy. Now he was literally the Master’s whipping boy. He felt useless. Jack hung at the Master’s mercy and took what was dished out, and he was impotent to stop any of it.

 

Just when Jack didn’t think the backs of his calves had any skin left to cane, a blow to the bottom of his feet sent fresh pain crashing through him. Jack now realized what _his_ victims had endured at his hands and realized his torture was penance for his past sins.

 

The Master hammered at the soles of Jack’s feet and he knew he wouldn’t be walking back to his cell without dying first. He was crippled slowly and painfully. Jack heard his own sob and realized tears were coursing down his cheeks to be absorbed by his gag. Jack Harkness was crying in pain.

 

He was foolish enough to hope that his ordeal was at an end when the blows to his feet stopped. Jack bit down on his gag and dragged his breath in and out savagely. Each exhalation tore a groan from his throat. His hopes were dashed when he felt the Master place a foot on his upper back. This had happened before and Jack knew what was coming.

 

Jack’s muffled scream ravaged his throat. The Master shoved him forward with the foot in his back. The ripping of his shoulders from their sockets plunged him into blessed oblivion.

 

“_Thank you, Ianto.”_

 

“_It’s my pleasure, sir.”_

 

“_You don’t have to stay here, you know. You should go home.”_

 

“_If I did, would you do something more constructive than mope around the Hub? Stand around on a rooftop and brood?”_

 

_Jack allowed himself a self-deprecating smile. Finding a roof was exactly what he’d intended. “I can find something to occupy myself. I’ve been my own caretaker for quite a number of years now.”_

 

“_And if I wanted to stay? Would you like me to?”_

 

_Jack searched for an answer that didn’t sound needy but also didn’t sound apathetic or disinterested. “Some companionship might be nice tonight.”_

 

“_There. It’s sorted then.”_

 

“Wake up, Jack,” Jack heard as he surfaced from his dream. He felt a hand gripping his head and jerking it backwards. “Come on, wake up!” the Master was angry.

 

Jack snapped back to awareness. The pain in his shoulders had changed and he remembered them being wrenched out of place. His arms were still secured behind him but they were now nothing more than useless hunks of flesh and bone.

 

The Master landed heavy blows to the front of Jack’s thighs. He was beyond screaming. He was beyond the pain. Tears still ran hotly down his cheeks. The pain was too extreme, too widespread and too overwhelming. Jack drifted right on the edge of awareness. His body and his mind couldn’t take much more of this and something was going to give.

 

He was reduced to whimpering when the Master moved the cane to brutalize Jack’s groin, belly and chest. He searched desperately for a way to spike his own pain and plunge himself back into unconsciousness. He wanted to return to that dream he’d been having. He wanted to return to Ianto.

 

“You suffer in such silent eloquence, Jack,” the Master said. Jack heard him walking in a circle. “I like the way you look when you’ve lost control of your muscles and your entire body quakes. I’m going to have to replicate that reaction.”

 

When he felt the blade pierce his side Jack was relieved. He was pleased and relieved and welcomed the feeling of his own blood running down his hip and thigh to the floor. With a sigh, Jack let the darkness overwhelm him.

………………………………………………**.**

 

Jack came back to reality with a harsh gasp and immediately struggled to sit up.

 

“Ssshhhh. Captain, hush. It’s okay, just relax,” a feminine voice chanted behind him and soft hands tried to soothe him. “You’re alright, Captain. You’re safe again.”

 

Jack recognized Tish’s soft tones and relaxed under her hands. He leaned back slightly and found he was propped by Tish’s slighter frame. Jack accepted her attempts at comfort and leaned back against her. One of her hands ran lightly up and down his arm and the other held a flannel with which she wiped away small traces of blood.

 

“There wasn’t much blood this time. Really just your stab wound,” Tish said. “You were a rainbow of colors when they dropped you in here, though.”

 

“That’s not surprising,” Jack sighed and rested his head against her shoulder. He took this moment to enjoy the warmth of her trying to clean him up.

 

“It’s a crime what he does to this beautiful body,” Tish said lightly, a smile in her voice.

 

Jack found himself smiling in answer. “It would seem his appreciation for my looks is what has him messing them up most of the time.”

 

“Like I said,” Tish replied, “It’s a crime.”

 

When it looked like he was as clean as he could be, Tish helped Jack to his feet and retrieved his still filthy clothes.

“Tell the guards I’m ready,” Jack said flatly.

 

Tish gave a wan smile before turning on her heel to exit the cell and inform Jack’s guards it was time to chain him up again.

………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 205

 

“A weapon, Jack?”

 

Jack’s head snapped up at the sound of the Master’s voice in a rage. He saw the Time Lord storming into his cell. He felt utterly confused.

 

“A weapon,” the Master stood in front of Jack glaring at him. “Torchwood really thinks it has a weapon that will kill a Time Lord?”

 

Jack had no idea what this was all about, but he suspected there was a game afoot that he dare not give away. He chose to glare back at the Master and say nothing.

 

“There aren’t enough smarts between Torchwood and UNIT to devise a weapon with the ability to harm a Time Lord,” the Master hissed.

 

“If you say so,” Jack said placidly, unwilling to admit the Master was most likely right.

 

“Martha Jones is on a fruitless mission, then,” the Time Lord said more calmly, as if trying to reassure himself.

 

Jack gave a slight shrug of one shoulder.

 

“If this weapon turns out to be real and you didn’t help me get to it before Ms. Jones finds it, you’re going to lose two of your team members in very lingering, painful ways,” the Master whispered to Jack, lips grazing his cheek. “Ms. Sato and Mr. Jones, I think.”

 

Jack shuddered but kept his expression carefully schooled as the Master pulled back from him.

 

“If there’s ever anything you want to talk to me about, Jack, you only have to tell one of the guards.”

 

Jack gave a single nod in understanding. He knew he would never use that information for anything other than to misdirect the Master. Perhaps he should try to think of a way to do that.

 

The Master stormed out of the cell in the same fashion he entered and Jack heard his footsteps echoing down the corridors until they faded away.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Day 230

 

Jack sat in the overstuffed chair he always occupied when awaiting the Master’s arrival. He and Francine had already completed their playful shower ritual. It was one of the few pleasant things Jack experienced these days. He sat now in the linen clothing the Master mandated he wear and picked over the food Tish had brought. The shower and the food almost made it worth submitting to the Master. _Almost_. He was going to have to submit anyway, so why not enjoy the perks?

 

The Master chose that moment to sweep into the room. He secured the door and made a show of engaging the isomorphic lock.

 

Jack immediately stood to remove his tunic. He’d long been conditioned to strip upon the Master’s arrival and take up his position on his knees, fingers locked behind his neck.

 

“Oh, no need for that today, Jack,” the Master waved a hand dismissively as he crossed the room.

 

Jack was thrown completely off balance, but he’d be damned if he was going to show it. He straightened his tunic and resumed his seat. He occupied himself for a few moments with steadying his breathing and schooling his expression. The Master took up the chair across from him and poured himself a cup of coffee. Jack hadn’t ever touched the stuff. The memory of Ianto’s coffee was one of the things Jack held onto in dark moments, and he wasn’t going to dilute it with the swill most likely brewed on the _Valiant_.

 

“So tell me, Captain,” the Master said in a tone better suited to two blokes taking tea, “how does a brilliant, charismatic, capable man of the future end up on a primitive planet running a clueless and useless organization like Torchwood?”

 

“Long story,” Jack said.

 

“We have time,” the Master countered.

 

“I was bouncing around the Universe when my Vortex Manipulator burned out, so I just settled in and made the best of it.” Jack gave him a fraction of the truth.

 

“Until the Doctor came along and you saw your way out?” the Master asked with raised eyebrows.

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“The Doctor stranded you here.”

 

“No.”

 

“He fed the Vortex into you and made you the freak you are.”

 

“No.” Jack protested outwardly but the Master’s words rang true in his head. He’d thought these things himself. The Time Lord voicing them made them more real. Valid.

 

“Oh, come on, Jack!” the Master said exasperatedly as he set his coffee cup down. “How am I supposed to get to know you better when you won’t tell me anything?”

 

Jack dropped his eyes. Damn it. He grew angry with himself for missing the signs. The Master was trying seduction again. For some sick reason he wanted to try to connect with Jack, pretend they were lovers. Mutual lovers, anyway. Jack’s heart raced with excitement. He could turn this to his advantage. He knew he could.

 

“Why Cardiff?” the Master asked suddenly.

 

Jack knit his brows in confusion.

 

“With your knowledge and abilities you could have been in charge of London ages ago, but you hid out in Cardiff. Why?”

 

“I don’t like politics,” Jack said dryly.

 

“And the hundreds of people that wouldn’t have died on your watch like they did on Yvonne Hartmann’s?”

 

The Master gave voice to Jack’s own personal doubts. He hated the Time Lord more in that moment than he ever had. Jack wasn’t sure what he might have done differently, but he had thought many times that maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough. If he’d pushed a little harder, a little sooner, instead of hiding out in Cardiff, could he have gained control? He’d never have allowed the ghost shifts. Never.

 

His long silence gave the Master an answer Jack didn’t really want him to have. “Ah, I see you’ve considered this before,” the Master said.

 

“It would have meant playing by the rules to get to the top in London, and in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not one for playing by the rules,” Jack said with a hint of sarcasm and a touch of self-deprecation.

 

“Yes, Captain,” the Master said solemnly. “I’ve noticed.”

 

Jack jumped when the Master rose from his chair. He felt like a prey animal as the Time Lord came around the back of his chair and laid his hands on Jack’s shoulders. He tensed at the unwelcome touch.

 

“Oh hush now,” the Master chided. “Just relax.”

 

Jack wasn’t able to relax around the Master. Understandable, given what usually happened to him in the presence of the Time Lord.

 

The Master ran his hands down Jack’s chest then back up to his shoulders. Jack felt lips pressed to his ear and a hot whisper ghost across his skin.

 

“It occurred to me that you’ve become very good at submitting when you feel forced,” he said, prompting a chill up Jack’s spine. “How well can you behave when it _seems_ like you have a choice?”

 

As the Master’s hands moved down Jack’s chest again, he feared he was going to find out.

 

“I want to be gentle with you, Jack,” the Master whispered against Jack’s neck. “If you please me without my having to force you, I’ll even let you have some pleasure.”

 

Jack didn’t really want to know what the Master’s idea of pleasure was.

 

The Master’s hands caressed Jack’s arms. He closed his eyes and tested a theory that he might be able to forget who was touching him by pretending it was someone else.

 

The Master’s hot mouth was pressing open-mouthed kisses to Jack’s neck. It wasn’t _unlike_ Ianto’s kisses when Jack had him really turned on. This might work.

 

It was the voice that shattered Jack’s illusion. “Stand up for me, Jack.”

 

Jack complied with real trepidation. As the Master came around to stand before him, Jack looked down from his slightly superior height. The Master lifted one hand and tapped a finger against his own lower lip as he pretended to pout. Jack obediently took the hint and lowered his head to place a kiss on the Master’s lips.

 

“Is that it?” The Time Lord was really pouting now.

 

Jack bit back a sigh, fearing reprisal at the sound. He lowered his head again and let the kiss linger this time.

 

“Better,” the Master said. “But I know what you’re capable of.” Jack hesitated, angering the Master. “Do you really like pain that much, Jack?”

 

Jack flinched as though he’d been slapped. It was in that moment he realized how much of an amateur he was compared to the Master. An amateur at torture. An amateur at controlling another person. He was a complete novice when it came to breaking down a human being completely and bending them to his will. In his years of performing occasional torture for the Time Agency, Jack had never thought to control someone by promising to withhold the pain he had spent so much time inflicting.

 

Jack lowered his head and captured the Master’s lips in his most seductive kiss. It was diabolical how the Master had so quickly convinced Jack to act like he enjoyed being fucked by him. And Jack would pretend to enjoy it, just to keep from bleeding out his arse again so the Jones women wouldn’t have to clean up after him.

 

This time when Jack pulled back, the Master gave him a smile of approval and Jack found this pleased him. He was proud of his skill at kissing, and he’d given the Time Lord pleasure with his kisses. The Master owned him now. Jack was actually seeking his approval. He had no further to fall.

 

“I believe this is going to be the first time you suck my cock without your hands being restrained in some way,” the Master said pleasantly, and Jack understood what was expected of him. As this would be the first time he wouldn’t be bound while sucking the Master off, it meant he was probably expected to use his hands.

 

Jack slowly lowered himself to his knees. He was doing this willingly. He wasn’t being forced. There was pleasure to be had here. Even if pleasure only meant the absence of pain.

 

He reached up and unfastened the Master’s trousers then reached in to withdraw him without preamble. Jack leaned in and wrapped his lips around the end of the Master’s semi-hard cock and slid his mouth down toward the base. He heard the Master moan above him and felt the Time Lord’s erection grow. Jack cupped the Master’s balls and caressed them gently as he worked himself up and down the now-full erection.

 

**“Jesus, Jack. Just like that…”**

 

_Jack lowered his head again to take all of Ianto’s hard cock into his mouth. He felt the brush of the engorged head on the back of his throat and he pulled back slowly, dragging harsh moans from Ianto’s throat as he went. It had been a long while since Jack had wanted to put so much effort into pleasing a lover. _

 

_He drew back the entire way and watched as Ianto’s erection bounced jauntily. Jack buried his face in the juncture of Ianto’s hip, thigh and groin and inhaled deeply of the musky scent. His own cock bobbed between his thighs as he breathed it in. He’d know that scent anywhere and it never ceased to get him hard instantly, even in the middle of the day in full sight of everyone in the Hub._

 

_Jack ran the flat of his tongue up the underside of Ianto’s erection._

 

“_You fucking cocktease,” Ianto breathed from above Jack. He loved to get Ianto talking dirty. He made it point to do so regularly._

 

_He drew back again and slid himself up the entire length of Ianto’s body. He adored the feel of their skin touching. Jack could spend hours running his hands over the softer spots on Ianto’s body, but he just fucking loved it when they touched from thigh to chest and could rub against each other endlessly._

 

Jack was yanked forcibly back into reality when the Master’s hands came to rest gently on his head and softly stroke his hair. True to his word, Jack’s submission and feigned enjoyment of this game were rewarded with loving touches and an absence of pain. Relieved, Jack redoubled his efforts and rapidly worked the Master’s cock. In his mind, it was not the Time Lord’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth.

 

“You have the prettiest mouth, Jack,” the Time Lord whispered. “Firm, full lips that are just made to stretch around a dick.”

 

Jack removed the hand that cradled the Master’s scrotum and wrapped his fingers around the shaft of the Time Lord’s cock, his mouth and hand working in tandem. Jack closed his eyes and gave himself over to his actions and his own memories. He might be cooperating, but he wasn’t going to offer eye contact.

 

The Master pressed gently against Jack’s skull to slow and then stop him. “Oh no!” the Master moaned. “Not this way. I don’t want to come this way.”

 

Jack sat back on his heels, waiting for his next instruction or clue.

 

“As dearly as I would like to shoot a load into that pretty mouth, I’d rather shoot it into your arse.”

 

Nodding, Jack rose as gracefully as he could. He slowly removed his tunic, and as he did, he found he was able to meet and hold the Master’s eyes, just as if he were with a lover. More accurately -- someone he loved. Jack dropped the fabric at his feet and watched as the Master’s eyes roamed hungrily over his naked chest.

 

He was emboldened by the look in the Time Lord’s eyes. He had more invested in Jack’s willing submission than he wanted anyone to know. Jack was going to use this to his advantage, turn the tables on the Master. This secret bit of knowledge gave him a way to take back control. He lowered his head again and kissed the Master, this time forcing his tongue in to swipe at the Time Lord’s. Jack was rewarded with a low groan in the Master’s throat.

 

Jack pressed his advantage and deepened the kiss when he felt the Master run his hands over Jack’s chest. The Master slid his hands around to clutch at Jack’s back so he changed the angle of the kiss, trying to wrest back control. He felt the Master press their bodies together tightly then grasp Jack’s head between both hands to keep extending the kiss.

 

The Master pulled back abruptly and Jack stumbled slightly. The Master’s hand slid down Jack’s chest, across his belly and down to grasp his still flaccid cock.

 

The Master gave Jack a hard look. “I thought you liked me, Jack.”

 

Jack didn’t know how to reply, so he stood with his eyes on the floor.

 

“You’ve kissed the breath out of me and sucked my brain out through my cock but still, you’re limp and soft.” The Master put a finger under Jack’s chin and lifted his face to look into his eyes. “I promised not to hurt you if you pleased me, but the thought that you don’t like me enough to get a hard-on doesn’t please me.”

 

With one simple sentence the Master showed Jack that he’d never really been in control of anything. The Time Lord got just what he wanted from Jack. The truly frightening part was that Jack was giving it all freely and willingly.

 

The Master spun from Jack suddenly and returned to his chair. “Why don’t you finish taking off your clothes and have a seat.”

 

Jack shucked his trousers and settled back down in his chair. He’d never been shy, and time was he wouldn’t have thought twice about sitting around in the altogether. But now he struggled to maintain his dignity.

 

The Master refreshed his coffee and regarded Jack over the rim of his cup. “So what does it take to get the great Captain Jack Harkness aroused?”

 

There was no safe answer, so Jack just studied the carpet pattern.

 

“Show me what it takes,” the Master said. “Second chance.”

 

Jack was afraid of just what the Master meant, so he remained still.

 

“If you can’t give yourself a hard-on, I’m going to start to believe you can’t get it up at all.”

 

Jack shifted in his chair and took hold of himself with one hand. Slowly at first, he stroked himself up and down. He had to admit it felt good. He hadn’t come or even been hard in months. Jack closed his eyes and reached for a memory. His own hand on his dick made it easy to find one.

 

_Jack looked down at Ianto as he lay spread open for him. He felt his heart in his throat when their eyes met. Looking up at him with a lot of lust and a little of his heart in his eyes, Ianto wordlessly urged Jack to hurry._

 

_Jack ran his hand over himself to slick his cock with the rest of the lube he’d used to open and prepare Ianto. As soon as Jack finished spreading lube on his cock, he’d lined himself up and pressed inward…._

 

Jack’s eyes shot open, and his breath shuddered in his chest. His hand was wrapped around his fully engorged cock, and he continued to pleasure himself. His erection was due entirely to memories of Ianto and not to the Master, so Jack allowed himself a wistful smile.

 

“That’s more like it.” The Master leaned over the table that separated them to watch Jack’s hand as it stroked his hard cock. “Bring that over here so I can see it more closely.”

 

He rose and moved to stand before the Master. Jack’s obedience was rewarded with the feel of the Time Lord’s lips as they wrapped around his cock. Jack tried not to sigh aloud. The only victory he wanted to hand the Master was his submission. Not his pleasure.

 

“At least this part of you lives up to your reputation,” the Master said when he pulled back from Jack’s groin. “In both size and beauty,” he clarified, sliding his mouth back down the length of the shaft.

 

Jack closed his eyes and gave himself over completely to the sensation. By not watching, he was able to deny who was giving him pleasure. Jack hadn’t had sex – pleasurable sex – for so long, and he’d missed it. A lot. It had been too long since Jack had had a hot, mindless shag just for the fun of it, then come with a shout in the arms of someone who’d brought him pleasure. When the Master had told Jack to touch himself earlier, he hadn’t thought he’d be able to get hard, let alone be on the verge of coming in the Time Lord’s mouth.

 

The Master’s hands moved Jack’s thighs apart and he complied, surprised. The Time Lord released Jack’s cock long enough to wet his own fingers, sliding them into the cleft of Jack’s arse. He tensed instantly, steeling himself for pain that never came. The Master only caressed Jack’s opening lightly and he felt himself relax. He stiffened when a finger pressed into him. Jack grew weak with relief when the pleasure continued. Nothing but pleasure. When the Master slid a second finger inside, Jack was sure pain was imminent, but it never came. Tears sprang to his eyes when he realized he still wouldn’t be punished. Jack finally gave himself permission to relax and enjoy. It had been so long. So very, very long. Jack’s soul ached for the contact as much as the orgasm.

 

Jack froze in fear when the Master withdrew his mouth and his fingers simultaneously. He silently swore at himself for letting the Master get over on him this way. This time he stayed ready for the pain to begin any moment. Jack was submitting and the Master seemed pleased, but he couldn’t ever forget that it could all change in a single moment or with a single word. Any moment the Master might throw Jack down and start pounding into him until he bled.

 

Instead, the Master patted Jack’s hip lightly. “Go lay yourself down on the bed,” he said.

 

Jack moved slowly to the bed, his fear rising. This bed had been the scene of so much pain and blood for Jack in the past months that he found himself absurdly wondering how often the mattress had been replaced. The bedding, at least, needed to be changed and burned after each of Jack’s visits to the room.

 

Jack crawled up onto the bed face down and waited apprehensively for the Master to join him. The bed dipped under the Master’s weight as he joined Jack. He couldn’t completely suppress his flinch.

 

“Oh look at you, Jack,” the Master enthused. “So obediently assuming the usual position without question or argument.”

 

Jack froze, not sure if the Master was serious or if he was mocking Jack just before meting out punishment. He jumped when he felt a hand caressing his arse.

 

“Turn yourself over, Jack,” the Master said.

 

Jack complied slowly, unsure of what to expect. He laid himself back against the pillows and watched the Master. Jack started to panic when he realized he had all but lost his erection. The Time Lord had so much invested in the pretense of Jack experiencing pleasure. It was almost assured he would be punished for losing his erection. He jumped when the Master’s hands spread his thighs. Jack complied quickly grateful for the softness of the touch.

 

“Oh, Jacky-boy!” the Master chided as he knelt between Jack’s knees. “Your ‘little Captain’ isn’t standing at attention any longer.”

 

Jack was stunned by the Master’s pout as he ran his hands up the inside of Jack’s thighs. “Why don’t you pay him a little loving attention?”

 

Jack obeyed with eagerness. He closed his eyes, wrapped his hand around himself and began to stroke. The hands running over his body were pleasant and surprisingly soothing. With his eyes closed, Jack could forget who the hands belonged to and imagine who he wished the hands belonged to.

 

“_Ianto, you’re doing that intentionally.” Jack felt the answering laughter hum around his cock. He looked down the length of his body and saw beautiful, stormy eyes watching him, gauging his responses. “I love to watch you do that.”_

 

_Ianto’s answer was a lewd sucking sound._

 

Jack’s cock responded to the memory with a twitch and began to thicken.

 

“I don’t know where you go, Jack,” the Master whispered. “But I like what it does to you.”

 

Jack’s eyes flew open and he tensed, his hand stilled on his cock when he felt fingers brush against his opening again. Until today, the Master had never touched him there before in any way that hadn’t meant pain and blood.

 

“Don’t let me interrupt,” the Master said when Jack’s hand stopped. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

 

Jack hesitated before he resumed. All the pleasant stimulation had its effect on him, and he felt as though he might actually be able to come today.

 

“Jack,” he opened his eyes at the sound of the Master’s voice. He saw the Time Lord hand him a bottle of lube. “Why don’t you prepare yourself?”

 

He tried not to dread what was coming, and continued to wank himself, fearful that if he lost his hard-on the fucking would be violent and painful. Jack took the lube from the Master and squeezed some onto his fingers one-handed. He slipped his hand between his legs sliding one, then two fingers inside of his body. Jack rubbed and stroked, stretched himself as the Master looked on, seemingly pleased. Jack closed his eyes. Even the feeling of his own fingers in his arse was so welcome after his extended isolation.

 

“Oh, that’s good, Jack,” the Master breathed. “I’m ready for you now.”

 

The Master was already hard and ready for Jack. The Time Lord placed his hands behind Jack’s knees and lifted them toward his chest as he positioned himself at Jack’s opening. Jack tensed. Pain had always accompanied this in the past. Yet Jack knew that tensing would make it hurt, regardless of the Master’s intentions.

 

The Master started to press in, and when he found Jack tense and tight he clucked his tongue. “Relax, Jack! You’ve pleased me. You won’t be hurt. You’re going to enjoy this.”

 

Jack took a deep, shuddering breath and focused on unclenching his muscles. The tension left him as he exhaled. The Master took advantage and pressed himself in.

 

The Time Lord moaned and Jack groaned. The Master slid in slow and steady. Jack closed his eyes and sobbed at the pleasant sensation of being filled so satisfyingly. Tears pricked his eyes behind closed lids. It had been so long since he’d done this in any way that wasn’t violent and painful, he couldn’t bring himself to care that it was the Master. Jack threw back his head and began to pant with pleasure, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. His cock was hard now, all because the crazy Time Lord was being nice to him, touching him gently and withholding the pain as he’d promised.

 

Jack felt the Master prop himself up on his arms on either side of Jack’s head. “Open your eyes, Jack.”

 

Jack complied. Now that he felt pleasure once again, he feared the pain and blood that much more.

 

“That’s it,” the Master cooed. “Let me see those pretty blue eyes while _I_ give you pleasure.”

 

Jack was mortified. Looking the Time Lord in the eyes laid him bare. The Master had full access to Jack’s pleasure, his shame, his need and his fear. He willingly, eagerly even, opened up his body and his soul to his torturer, all because the bloody bastard promised to withhold a little pain.

 

“You do like cock, don’t you Jack?” the Master hissed as he pumped rhythmically in and out of Jack’s body. “Answer me,” he ordered.

 

“Yes, Master,” Jack whispered.

 

“If you need a little pain, I can fuck you harder and deeper. Would a sharp smack on your ass make your spine tingle?”

 

“Please, no!” Jack heard himself plead on a sob. The broken sounds of his own voice brought his tears anew. He hated the person pumping away above him, yet he didn’t want it to stop, and he was pleading -- _begging_ not to be hurt again.

 

“Why the tears, Captain?” the Master asked in mock concern. “If you dislike it when I’m kind to you and allow you pleasure, we can always go back to our old arrangement.”

 

“No!” Jack said in a strangled voice he hardly recognized as his own.

 

“Which would you prefer?” the Master lowered his head to whisper his question against Jack’s mouth. “I can bind you and kill you a few times, or I can continue to fuck you.”

 

“Fuck me, Master. Please fuck me.”

 

“Oh, how can I resist when you beg me so sweetly!” The Master pulled back to change his angle and continued to slide himself in and out of Jack’s body. “You must do something for me, though. Touch yourself while I watch. If you make yourself come before two minutes are up, I’ll keep fucking you. If you don’t, we go back to our old arrangement.”

 

Jack didn’t even think. He grasped himself firmly and rapidly jerked himself off while the Master watched, his dick buried deeply inside Jack.

 

As badly as Jack needed to come and as long as it had been since he had, the pressure the Master put on him with the time limit and possible punishment for failure wreaked havoc on his concentration. Jack was afraid to close his eyes with the Master watching him so closely.

 

In the end, it was the fear of a return to the pain that motivated Jack and in just under two minutes he came as hard as he ever had. His come shot out and landed on his own chest and stomach, spilling over his hand. Some even exploded to mark the Master’s shirt.

 

“That was so sexy!” the Master said breathlessly. He increased his thrusts and made some subtle adjustment so the angle changed. Jack saw stars. “If you make me come in the next minute I won’t return you to your cell immediately. I’ll let you stay here in peace and rest in the bed for a few hours.”

 

Jack feared this was a trick. First, his cooperation earned him pleasure and now his ability to follow orders earned him peace and relaxation. The Master owned Jack now. He feared there was nothing he wouldn’t do, no command he wouldn’t obey.

 

Jack focused and pulled out some of his more creative tricks to milk the Master’s orgasm from him. He nearly missed the deadline, but before the minute was up, the Master arched and moaned and thrust one last time into Jack’s body.

 

The Time Lord pulled out of Jack and put himself away. Jack rolled onto his side and lay still on the bed. He’d been far more worn out after a good shag with Ianto than he was now, but emotionally he was a mess. His soul belonged to a deranged Time Lord.

 

That Master smacked Jack lightly on the hip as he made to leave the room. “You see, I keep my promises, Jack. Remember that. As agreed, you can stay here in peace for the day. The guards will fetch you when it’s time.”

 

Finally, Jack was alone. He let the salty tears leak out the corners of his eyes until he had no more to give.

……………………………………………………**..**

 

Day 232

 

Francine made her morning visit to Jack. “The Doctor says he needs you.”

 

“I’m sure he does,” Jack said dryly.

 

“He says he needs you to start joining our resistance plans. The Master thinks he has you under control, so he’s focused on breaking the Doctor,” she explained.

 

“Francine, I have to look out for myself and my team,” Jack snapped at her angrily, instantly regretting it. She was so fucking nice to him. She and Tish both. “There is no guarantee that if one of your plans succeeds the Doctor will even remember I’m on board. He could easily leave me chained up here, undying and alone.”

 

“He wouldn’t…” Francine started to argue.

 

“He already has once!” Jack cut her off angrily. “Sure, we’re all in this together until he has what he wants and then it’s fuck you Jack and fuck your little team.”

 

“Your cooperation has made him complacent, and he’s spending more time looking for Martha,” Francine said in a low voice.

 

That got Jack’s attention. Martha had never been anything but kind to him. Her family was a godsend. He sighed heavily. “Francine, do you want to go back to washing my own blood off of me every other day while I lay dead on the floor? Do you want to keep cleaning up the blood and the flesh I leave behind in his bedroom? How many times do you want to replace the mattress on his bed because it’s soaked through with my blood? Do you want Tish to keep seeing and dealing with all of this?”

 

Francine gave Jack a pained look. “Captain, we’re all in this together. There’s almost nothing we wouldn’t do for you. You can’t be forgetting what _you_ endure in the hours before we have to clean you up. You live through the most horrific things imaginable and yet here you stand, worried about your team and about Tish and about me.”

 

Jack didn’t know what to say. He watched Francine gather up the tray to leave. Before she turned to go, she rose up on her toes in front of him. Jack lowered his head slightly for her to place a kiss on his cheek.

 

Francine’s eyes were misty as she left his cell.

…………………………………………………

 

Day 234

 

That night while he was fed his dinner, Tish once again made the Doctor’s case for Jack’s assistance in their resistance plans.

 

“I’m not afraid of what he’ll do to me if we fail. I’m afraid of what he’ll do to my team,” Jack explained patiently.

 

“But if we succeed your team will be safe for good,” Tish replied.

 

“They’re not up here with us. They have no say. They might be willing to risk themselves for the cause, but I can’t ask them so I can’t gamble with their lives.” Jack thought that was the end of it.

 

“Captain, you once said you didn’t want them to know what you were going through up here because you were afraid they would try to stage an escape to rescue you,” Tish reminded him. “You didn’t want them to try because you didn’t want them to fail on your behalf. Do you think they would appreciate you doing _nothing_ to try to stop the Master, all because of them?”

 

Jack had to admit she had him there.

 

“I’ll think on it,” Jack said with a sigh.

 

Tish smiled up at him, laid a gentle hand against his cheek then turned to leave.

……………………………………………

 

The _Valiant’s_ engines hummed comfortingly. It was ship’s night and Jack was alone with his thoughts. He admitted to himself that he wanted his team alive and well when they finally got out of this mess. He wanted them all to go back to the Hub and move on with their lives. That was the real reason Jack didn’t want to risk their lives. The future. They were his future. He’d gotten his answers from the Doctor. More than he’d bargained for, actually. He’d given up his first life for the Doctor and it hadn’t mattered a wit. He was _wrong_ and the Doctor continued to try to take from Jack and offer nothing in return.

 

His team was a different story. They gave and they gave and they gave and all they wanted from Jack in return was his support, his approval, his leadership and his affection. He could give those easily, so very, very easily. Unlike the Doctor, they would lay down their lives for him.

 

They’d been manipulated into opening the Rift. Jack had forgiven them immediately, and he knew in his bones that they had learned their lessons. He could only imagine the devastation they must have felt when he’d swanned off without a word, chasing the Doctor, who didn’t give a damn about him.

 

_Not one of your better ideas, Jack._

 

No, Jack was done with the Doctor and he wanted his team hale and hearty so they could all go forward together. Still, Tish’s words were ringing in his ears. What would _they_ want him to do? Would they respect his decision to protect them at the risk of his own welfare?

Probably not.

 

Jack sighed heavily. He still wasn’t sure what to do. He needed Ianto to talk to. After so much time alive, often feeling isolated or at least disconnected, he’d recently come to realize how much _easier_ the hard decisions were to make when he had Ianto to discuss them with. Facing the consequences was often easier with him, too.

 

He set aside his conflicted thoughts and settled for reliving some pleasant memories. A part of Jack knew Tish’s words had been spot on and that he owed it to his team to help end this nightmare.

…………………………………………………

 

Day 240

 

“_Let me try to help you, Ianto.”_

 

“_It’s not necessary, Jack.”_

 

“_Maybe not, but I’d like a chance to make up for causing the problem.”_

 

“_I don’t recall you being the one who tied me up with the intent of turning me into food.”_

 

_Jack ran his hands over Ianto’s arms and encouraged the younger man to look into his eyes. “Let me help you get cleaned up, get some food…”_

 

“_I don’t need a babysitter, Jack.”_

 

“_That’s not what I’m suggesting. I know you don’t need a caretaker, I’m offering comfort.”_

 

_He watched Ianto search his face. “What kind of comfort?”_

 

_Jack allowed himself a suggestive smile. “Oh, I was thinking some life affirming sex but I’m open to suggestions. What kind of comfort would you be interested in?”_

 

_Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto and pulled him close when the younger man leaned into him as if seeking the comfort he’d offered. Jack pressed his face to Ianto’s neck and breathed deeply. He felt an inexplicable desire to take him into his bed and spend the entire night helping him to feel alive again._

 

“_What did you have to do to find us, Jack?”_

 

_Jack froze at Ianto’s words, his blood ran cold. “I only did what was necessary.”_

 

“_But at what cost to yourself?”_

 

“_Losing one of you would have been too high a price to pay.”_

…………………………………………………**..**

 

When Jack finally decided to participate in the resistance, it was because he believed his team would expect him to. They would forgive him a multitude of sins, but never could they forgive him for giving up.

 

So Jack incurred the Master’s renewed wrath when he ripped his restraints out of the wall, overpowered some of his guards and made a run for the TARDIS. His sole task was to try to shut down the Paradox Machine.

 

Jack made it as far as the room that housed the TARDIS, but there he was faced with several of those fucking floating orbs. They caused just enough pain and delayed him long enough for a group of the Master’s storm troopers to reach him and empty their magazines into his chest.

 

He was going to need a new white vest. Again.


	7. Chapter 7

Day 242

 

Jack was surprised when it took the Master two days to order him dragged out of his cell. He’d expected the retribution to be swifter.

 

He got another surprise when he was taken to the control room. He’d expected to be fucked to death, in a bad way. Of course a little bloodletting would be thrown in. Okay, a lot of bloodletting would be thrown in.

 

Instead he was hauled out of the lift and greeted by the Master from his position on the upper level. It was what the Time Lord stood next to that brought Jack up short. It was a rough-hewn wooden cross. The only adornment was the block of wood intended to support the feet of the victim. Jack’s mouth went dry, his blood ran cold and his knees grew weak. There could only be one possible victim destined for the cross.

 

This was a form of torture and execution singular only to Earth. Jack knew about the _science_ of crucifixion, the truth about how it was done and how it was fatal. This was going to be Jack’s worst death ever.

 

“So you want to be a martyr, Jack?” The Master yelled at him from across the room. “You’re willing to die for the Doctor’s cause. How noble.” Jack watched the Master caress the wood of the cross. “I’ve decided to give you a martyr’s death, then.”

 

The guards dragged Jack toward the looming cross. For the first time in a long time Jack decided he wasn’t going to go. The worst was already going to happen, and he’d be damned if he was going to go quietly to the slaughter. Jack dug his heels into the slick floor for leverage to push and pull against the men that were dragging him across the floor. Jack was strong and desperate but there were more of them and they began to get him across the room. He was only marginally aware of the faces of the onlookers as they watched his struggles in horror. Their shouts and cries of protest at his treatment drowned out his own.

 

The Master yelled to be heard over the chaos that had erupted in the room. More guards moved into get him under control. “These primitive people still believe in deities! Can you believe that, Jack? They have their main religions with lots of little splinter groups. Can you believe three of those religions make it a habit to try to annihilate one another when they’re all rooted in the same belief system? They’re monotheists who share the same God and yet they hate one another. They have a religious text in common and they hate each other. These are the ignorant people you have chosen to love and protect and live amongst. Fine. I wouldn’t have thought _you’d_ develop a messiah complex.”

 

Jack was forced to his knees as the Master made sure he was listening before he continued his tirade. “Have you read about this form of execution, Jack? Barbaric. One of their ancient societies used this form to make an example of slaves and criminals. So, I’m making an example of you. Here, in front of all your little friends. They get to see what can happen to them if they continue to defy me.”

 

The guards yanked him back to his feet, and hauled Jack up the stairs. He struggled with everything he had still inside. Somewhere in the room he heard the Jones women cry out shrilly, several of the other women wept in distress and many of the other guards and spectators in the room also voiced their discomfort with events as they unfolded. A guard finally clamped down on Jack’s throat from behind and the world went black.

 

When Jack awoke, he lay on the floor on his back. He glanced down at his body and saw he had been stripped and what resembled a loincloth had been wrapped around his hips. Dread crept up Jack’s spine as he realized how far the Master was taking this.

 

Jack was jerked up to stand again and several hands held him still. Another set of guards lowered the cross to the floor. The moment had arrived and Jack’s fear and rage fueled his renewed struggles. They were ready for him this time, and someone choked him until he was limp but aware.

 

Several strong hands gripped parts of Jack’s body painfully. He was lifted and carried to the cross. They laid him down and he felt the roughness of the wood pressing into his naked back. Jack tried to rouse himself to struggle, but he was held down and pinned to the cross. With each moment Jack grew more lucid and stronger, but his arms were still pressed into the wood. Jack panicked. He struck out with his hands and arms and kicked out with his legs but there were just too many of them and they were just too strong.

 

The pitch of the crowd noise rose as Jack fought. They cheered for him, encouraged him, at the same time they jeered and swore at the Master and the guards.

 

The Master stood at the head of the cross and looked down at Jack’s supine form. “I can’t wait to see how this works. I’ve been fascinated by this since I read about it,” he told Jack with a gleeful smile. “And the best thing is if I get it wrong the first time I still have a chance to do it again and get it right!”

 

The Master stepped over to Jack’s left wrist and produced an over-sized iron nail and a rubber mallet. He knelt down and rested the tip of a nail against the blue-veined inside of Jack’s wrist and brought the mallet down with a great deal of force.

 

Jack screamed and battled back fiercely. His captors still managed to hold him in place and he felt the iron nail slide through flesh and between bone when the Master brought the mallet down a second time. Jack heard chaos break out on the lower level. Sounds of struggles and swearing and impassioned pleadings and protests reached his ears as his own screams faded.

 

“The key here is to drive the nails through the wrist,” the Master explained to Jack over the din of the room. “Contrary to popular religious imagery, the hands cannot support the weight of the body once the cross is lifted.” Jack almost didn’t hear the words over his own renewed screams and those of the crowd. As the nail made its way out the other side of his wrist and into the wood his screams subsided to raw groans through gritted teeth. Jack heard Francine Jones swear a blue streak and spit epithets at the Master that would have made him proud if he weren’t being nailed to a cross. He’d try to remember to tease her about her dirty mouth next time they were alone.

 

“You sick fucking bastard!” Jack yelled so as not to be outdone by Francine. “You’re a sadistic fuck! No one in their right mind would enjoy this!”

 

“I’m a Time Lord, Jack,” the Master stood over Jack and looked down at him with disdain. “Humans are so far beneath me, you are nothing but my playthings.”

 

The Master knelt at Jack’s right hand and impaled his wrist with another iron nail. In between his screams of agony he heard the sounds of renewed struggle on the lower level. Jack could make out the shouts of those still trying to come to his aid as they were beaten back by the Master’s storm troopers.

 

Jack knew his own screams were exciting to the Master. He knew the more his pain was put on display, the more aroused the Time Lord became. The pain was just too much to bite back the sounds of his torment. A wave of nausea hit Jack like a freight train as pain washed over him again and again. By the time the nail embedded itself into the wood Jack’s chest was heaving with every breath. He could hear himself wheeze and groan each time he dragged air into his lungs and forced it back out again.

 

“Almost done, Jack,” the Master announced as he knelt at Jack’s feet. As the guards continued to pin him down the Master drove his third nail into Jack’s crossed ankles.

 

Jack’s voice was hoarse from his screams and yet they were still being torn from his throat. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he heard himself say as his legs were secured to the cross.

 

“Lovely. Simply lovely,” the Master said as he surveyed his work.

 

As Jack’s screams quieted, he heard the sobs and shouts in the room below. Several people still screamed and others now yelled but they all swore as they paid witness to Jack’s crucifixion. Most of the voices were feminine, and Jack supposed the Jones ladies continued to violently protest his treatment. He hoped they didn’t protest too much or the Master might turn his wrath on them.

 

“Hoist him up,” the Master ordered and the guards obeyed. Jack felt the cross lift up and he braced himself against the fresh pain.

 

When the cross was vertical and its heavy round base stabilized, everyone fled the upper level except the Master. He stood before Jack and looked up at him with a wide smile on his face.

 

“Messianic imagery suits you, Jack,” the Time Lord said. He ran his hands over Jack’s belly and down his thighs.

 

As soon as the cross was upright Jack felt the pressure on his chest. His own body weight dragged him down and tore at his shoulders. He needed to ease the pressure on his chest so he extended his knees but a gasp tore from his lips as pain shot through his damaged ankles. Still, the need to breathe easily was great and Jack pressed against the spike in his ankles again until he rose up enough to take a full, unimpeded breath.

 

“Oh, shut up!” Jack heard the Master shout as he spun around to face the room’s occupants. “It’s not like he’s going to die. Well, not permanently anyway.”

 

The screaming in the room quieted down until it was a dull roar punctuated by soft sobs. Pain radiated up Jack’s extremities. His head lolled against his chest and he tried to ignore the pain. Any attempt he made to ease the pain in his chest and wrists would cause shooting pains in his ankles as he put pressure on the bones nailed to the cross.

 

“You did this to your precious Captain,” Jack heard the Master address the room. “I had nothing to do with it. You lot sucked him into your insubordinate plans. He let himself be killed to your benefit. You,” the Master pointed at the room, “martyred him.” Jack felt the Master’s hand on his bare thigh again.

 

“Doctor!” the Master shouted and gestured back toward Jack’s tortured body. “Do you see your precious Captain Jack? Do you see what happens to those you convince to stir up trouble?”

 

Jack tried to lift his head in search of the Doctor. He was too damn tired. With great effort he raked his eyes over the occupants of the room and managed a glimpse of the Doctor. Jack wasn’t sure what he expected but the detached, emotionless expression the Doctor wore hadn’t been it.

 

Jack had a fleeting thought that the Doctor could care less about his condition. He had no doubt that even after this spectacle the Doctor would still send the Jones ladies to recruit Jack to their cause yet again, knowing full well what the consequences would be.

……………………………………………………………

 

Jack didn’t know how long he’d been hanging from the cross. Truth be told, he didn’t give a shit. He’d rather know how much longer he was going to be left here.

 

The pain was just too much to endure for an extended period and Jack’s mind drifted. Memories and fantasies flashed rapidly behind his eyelids and eventually ran together.

 

_Owen and Ianto sniping at one another as if neither really liked the other_.

 

_Tosh joyously hacking someone’s pride and joy computer security network._

 

_Gwen flirting over the telephone with one of her police contacts._

 

_Dancing with Rose on top of the Chula Ship with Big Ben in the background_.

 

_Seeing Gwen and Owen sneaking off deep into the hub for a shag._

 

_Catching sight of Tosh and Ianto sitting quietly at her desk sharing a coffee and a confidence. _

 

Jack roused after a time, but he wasn’t sure how long he’d drifted for. The pain was worse now. His arms and legs throbbed and his chest was painfully restricted. It hurt to draw the smallest breath. He could hear the Master as he talked and laughed loudly, amused with himself. He raised his head and saw the Time Lord sat at the long table with a sumptuous feast laid out before him. Lucy sat across from him, her expression vacant. Several of the young women the Master surrounded himself with were also at the table. Jack caught sight of the Doctor, pushed to the table in his wheelchair. His expression was as vacant as Lucy’s. The only one who talked or laughed was the Master.

 

His mind took Jack away again, and images played in his mind.

 

_Rose and Ianto sitting on the divan in the Hub, each favoring him with an impish grin._

 

_Crawling through the TARDIS, constantly amazed at its power and complexity._

 

_Weevil hunting._

 

Suzie and Gwen sitting side by side in the conference room while he briefed them all on a mission.

 

_Ianto writhing beneath him. Ianto laying curled up against him warm, sated and at peace. Jack running his fingers though the sleeping man’s hair as he watched him sleep._

 

Jack was awakened by the Master. He opened his eyes reluctantly and saw that the Time Lord stood before him, running the palm of one hand down Jack’s belly in an obscene caress. Francine and Tish were in the background clearing away the remnants of the Master’s meal. Jack’s breathing was labored now. It felt as though his shoulders were dislocating and that his hands were being ripped from his arms at the wrist. He felt the Master’s hands slide from his belly, down over his hips and along his thighs.

 

“Time to resume the entertainment,” the Time Lord announced and produced a long-bladed knife. “I thought the crown of thorns trite, so I skipped it. You’re still missing one feature to complete your portrait.”

 

Jack was by no means thinking clearly. He gasped sharply when the Master thrust the knife into his right side. It was sharp for a moment, but soon this new pain blended in with all the rest. Jack welcomed death. He welcomed the respite. His only mistake was in assuming he’d be down from the cross when he woke up.

 

Jack’s first returning gasp was excruciating. Usually it was just a combination of relief and surprise; his body relieved to be alive again and his brain surprised that it wasn’t dead any longer. Then again, he usually had a complete chest cavity for his lungs to expand into. This time he was nailed to a cross.

 

The more aware he became of his surroundings, the more aware he became of the pain coursing through his entire body. His wrists hurt like a motherfucker where they supported the majority of his body weight, the spikes still driven through flesh and between bones. Jack forgot for a moment that a thick nail was driven through both ankles and into the wooden cross behind him until he tried to alleviate the strain on his wrists by standing up. The more Jack struggled to find a way to ease his breathing, the more ways he learned his body could hurt.

 

As soon as he could draw a deep enough breath Jack screamed. His body tried to convulse, only to feel as though it were being torn apart by the spikes securing him to the thick wooden beams. He threw his head back as far as the top of the cross would allow.

 

Jack’s screams subsided to shallow, agonized sobs. When his eyes focused, he saw Tish Jones at the foot of the stairs below him. She lay in a crumpled heap, her father’s arms wrapped tightly around her body as it shook with her sobs. She clung to him fiercely while Francine knelt behind her.

 

His breathing was shallow and labored now. For all that he was alive again, his predicament had prevented him from healing. Even if he had healed properly, the fact that he was still crucified would have caused the same damage all over again.

 

The Master sat at the conference table, eating something from the slender fingers of one of the anonymous young woman he surrounded himself with. When he heard Jack’s scream, he unceremoniously dumped the woman from her perch on his lap. “Jaaaack!” the Master drew his name out as he approached the stairs. “Welcome back!” He dragged a hand over Tish’s head as he passed the huddled family and the young woman flinched away. The Master fairly leaped up the steps until he stood before Jack.

 

“You were gone for quite a while that time. The ladies tell me you aren’t usually away from us for that long. I think they had hoped you were finally out of my reach permanently,” the Master said as he circled Jack’s cross. “You and I both know that’s not a possibility, is it?”

 

Jack’s every breath was labored, and his every exhalation ended in a groan. His pride was in shreds and he never considered hiding his pain and distress. Endure. All he had left to do was to endure.

 

The Master came to stand before Jack, placed a possessive hand on his hip and looked up at him. “The Doctor pleaded for you while you were dead, Jack. He said my issues were between him and me only.”

 

Jack glared at the Time Lord from beneath his lowered brow but said nothing. He could barely get enough air into his lungs to sustain himself, let alone to speak angry words.

 

The Master’s hand on Jack’s hip tightened almost painfully. “He has no idea how much of a pain in the arse you were to me the eighteen months before I became Prime Minister.” As evil as the Master looked to Jack most of the time, the expression he wore now was in an entirely different league. “I should have been able to raid Torchwood’s archives and get my hands on him long before I did, but _you_, Captain Harkness, got there before me.”

 

Jack had no idea what the Master was going on about. His brain was fogged with pain.

 

“You and your damn Doctor-friendly Torchwood Three. Your insidious secret purging of London’s information on him,” the Master said in a low voice. “Your arrogant, uncooperative isolation of Cardiff from London. I knew from the first moment I saw the grainy photograph of the mysterious, enigmatic Captain Jack just who was working against me. I have my own issues with you, Jack. Just so you and I are clear.” Jack watched as the Master pulled a dagger from the pocket of his suit jacket.

 

One of the Master’s storm troopers came to kneel on all fours in front of Jack. The Master stepped up and stood on the man’s back as if he were nothing more than a step stool. Jack watched as the Time Lord stretched his arms expansively in an exaggerated motion of preparing to write. When the Master leaned in toward Jack with the dagger in hand, Jack realized he was the paper.

 

Jack’s constricted chest prevented him from drawing sufficient breath to cry out. His small, painful breaths could only manage the smallest of groans and whimpers, punctuated by his sobs. The Master caressed his hand over Jack’s chest. Jack heard him sigh just before he began to carve along Jack’s upper chest. The Time Lord seemed oblivious to the sounds he elicited from his victim.

 

The Master carved a single word across the expanse of Jack’s upper chest. He took his time to form the large, block letters that trickled blood down Jack’s belly.

 

The Time Lord pulled back to admire his handy work.

 

**MARTYR**

 

The murmur in the room had grown as the Master leaned into begin his carving on Jack’s lower chest. Jack could see the members of the Jones family were on their feet now and were staring daggers at the Master’s back, but guards still prevented anyone from rendering him any aid. It was for the best that no one could reach him. He didn’t want their intervention to earn them punishment. He would live through this, no matter how painful was. He was forced to groan his way through the second word as it was cut deeply into his flesh.

 

**FREAK**

 

Jack looked up and saw where the Doctor watched the proceedings from his wheelchair across the room. His ancient eyes looked sad, defeated. Jack thought he even saw pity and regret but he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t really think the Doctor was capable of either of those emotions. All Jack really knew was that he was here _because_ of the Doctor. He’d died _for_ the Doctor and his cause, been resurrected for all eternity _because_ of the Doctor only to be _left behind by the Doctor_. Now Jack had just learned that his torture, his misery, his abuse were a direct result of the actions he’d taken trying to get answers _from_ the Doctor.

 

The Master had finished his next carving on Jack’s upper abdomen and the blood from his wounds soaked into his loincloth.

 

**FILTHY**

 

The last one was the worst as it was on Jack’s lower abdomen, just above his groin. The Master finished his carving and stepped down and back to view Jack’s entire carved up form.

 

**WHORE**

 

Jack was barely getting air into his lungs now. He closed his eyes and did what he could to try to relax. He let himself drift and blocked out the sights and sounds around him. He needed a comforting thought quickly. Ianto. He grabbed onto a memory of Ianto’s face.

 

_Ianto followed Jack through the corridors of the hospital as they searched for the room that held the supposed victim of a Weevil attack. Ianto wore that dark suit, with the tone on tone shirt and tie combo that managed to be both professional and menacing at the same time. He’d looked hot that night. The way he played good cop to Jack’s bad cop was sexy as hell. He brought out that dry, sardonic wit during their little chat with the guy and that just ratcheted up his hot factor. _

 

_Jack couldn’t even make it back to the SUV before he climbed all over Ianto. He pushed him up against the passenger door and kissed him. Hard. They were grinding against one another in earnest almost immediately. Not only did Ianto not put up any resistance, ever, but most times Jack suspected he was subtly enticing him. _

 

_Jack didn’t mind Ianto’s kind of enticement at all. In fact he really liked it. _

 

_He really missed it._

 

Jack floated in a fog. He came across a nearly forgotten memory of a time he had tracked Ianto down in the Hub.

 

It was late at night. The team had gone home and Ianto really should have, too.

 

_Jack suspected that Ianto frequently hung around just waiting for Jack to give into his own hormones and obsessions. In spite of his best intentions, if Ianto stayed around long enough, Jack would invariably have an erection from remembering, thinking about or watching him on CCTV. Once he was hard, nothing would do except seeking the young man out and satisfying both of them. _

 

“Jack,” he heard his name called and felt a sharp slap on his face. “Jack, I’m not done with you, I suggest you wake up.” Another slap fell on his cheek. Jack pulled himself back to consciousness in much the same way he pulled himself back to consciousness.

 

“Let’s review, Jack,” the Master said. “Getting yourself tortured and killed by participating in the Doctor’s mutinous plans makes you a what?”

 

“Martyr,” Jack whispered.

 

“That’s right, Captain. Does the Doctor give a damn about you and the way you suffer for him?”

 

“No.”

 

“Right again. Who am I, Jack?”

 

Jack let his head hang down to his chest and tried to act as though he’d passed out again. He felt and heard the slap across his face.

 

“Stay with me, Captain. Who am I?”

 

Realizing he had no choice but to answer, Jack whispered, “Master.”

 

“That’s right. Now, before I draw the curtain on this show, let’s get another thing straight,” the Master said. “The next time you let the Doctor talk you into anything foolish, I’m going to bring one of your little team up here to join you in your next martyr’s death.” He leaned in closer. “And remember, they don’t have your messianic abilities.”

 

Before Jack could absorb that information, the Master sank his little dagger into Jack’s right side.

 

Blissful darkness followed.

………………………………………**..**

 

Jack came back to life somewhere in the lower corridors of the _Valiant_. He took a deep breath, blessedly deep and free of pain, and opened his eyes to see the lights move quickly by above him. Jack thrashed in an attempt to get his bearings.

 

“Don’t struggle, Captain.” He heard Francine’s voice from somewhere above his head. “We almost have you back to your cell, just relax.”

 

As Jack’s awareness continued to return, he realized he was being carried by several sets of hands. The more his vision cleared, the guards’ faces came into focus above him. They surrounded him on all sides, their hands strong but gentle as they supported his weight through the dim hallways.

 

“You’re fine, you’re okay now. We’re almost there, just stay calm,” Francine continued to call from somewhere behind him.

 

Jack heard a door open and feet scrabbling around them, and then the guards gently lowered him to the floor. He expected the coldness of the concrete against his skin and was surprised to find something made from a soft material had been laid down. Tish’s distressed face appeared above him and she tried to smile reassuringly. He felt her hand run softly through his hair.

 

After they had laid Jack down they quietly retreated. He heard Francine speak to them, thanking them for their speed and their kindness. He heard her accept something from one of them with gratitude.

 

“You just lay there and relax, Captain,” Francine said. “You’ve been through a hell of a lot and we’re going to take good care of you.”

 

“It’s not necessary,” Jack said, trying to rise.

 

“Now stop it, Jack,” Francine scolded. “You’re sticky with your own blood. You’ve spent a day nailed to a cross being taunted by that monster. You’ve earned the right to lay back and let us clean you up.”

 

Tish took one of his hands and began to clean up the traces of blood. The warm water was soothing and pleasant so Jack decided to give into their ministrations for a little while. He felt Francine begin to work on his feet.

 

“You’re not used to having anyone take care of you, are you, Jack?” Francine asked as she cleaned her way up his legs.

 

“Not really,” Jack answered, closing his eyes against the glare of the lights above. “How did you get me down?”

 

“The guards were ready with the tools. They prepared when they realized what the Master had planned for you,” she said. “As soon as he left the room they all moved to lay the cross down and pull the spikes out. They didn’t wait for you to come around; they just scooped you up and brought you here.”

 

Jack made a non-committal sound but he felt a deep sense of gratitude.

 

“They had the water and your clothes ready and waiting when we got here,” Tish said as she wiped at Jack’s torso where the carvings had been. “They’ve given you another fresh vest.”

 

“Thank them for me,” Jack said.

 

“I think they got your clothes cleaned up a little, too,” she added.

 

“I appreciate that.”

 

There was a long pause before Tish continued, “They would have destroyed that cross, but the Master specifically ordered it be saved and stored.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure he intends to use it again,” Jack said ruefully.

 

They lapsed into silence again as the women continued to clean him up. Jack opened his eyes slightly and glanced at one of his hands a little reluctantly. He had nothing to worry about -- the wounds in his wrists had healed. He really shouldn’t be surprised. That was how it worked, after all.

 

“I think that’s good enough,” Jack said as he tried to sit up, only to be lightly restrained by Francine’s hand on his chest.

 

“Haven’t you _ever_ had anyone to take care of you?” she asked incredulously. “No one to clean you up after a battle? No one to make sure you eat? Isn’t there anyone for you to talk to after a hard day? No one that listens to you?”

 

Jack remained silent, afraid to say anything. It was irrational, but he was almost afraid that talking about it would take it away.

 

“You can’t tell me you do your own washing, Captain,” Francine said. Jack could hear the smile in her voice.

 

Jack laughed softly, acknowledging the truth, “No, you’re right,” he paused again. “Ianto does those things for me.”

 

“I thought so,” she replied.

 

“Alright,” Francine said. “Let’s get you dressed.” The ladies stood him up and helped him slide into his clothing. “You sit tight and we’ll send the guards in. They won’t hurry so you can relax a little.”

 

Jack pressed a kiss to each of their foreheads. “Thank you again,” he whispered before they left him alone.

……………………………………………………**.**

 

Jack trembled in his bonds. It was once again ship’s night, and he was alone with his thoughts. He almost couldn’t believe what he’d endured today. Had any of them had any idea how truly insane the Master was? Had the Doctor known before he’d brought Martha into harm’s way? If they hadn’t known before, they surely knew it now. Who in their right mind would gleefully crucify another person?

 

Most men in power feared getting their hands dirty and would delegate the actual cruelty to a weak-minded subordinate. Jack had watched the Master drive the iron stakes into his hands and feet himself. Jack had watched as the Master had personally carved crude designs into his body. It wasn’t even that the Master did these things himself because there was no one else to do them. The Master _enjoyed_ it. He received pleasure from it. Jack used to torture people as a part of his job. He always had a reason and a goal. He had never liked it. He’d never enjoyed it. He’d been good at it, but it had never brought him pleasure.

 

Jack was suddenly very scared.

……………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 253

 

Tish entered Jack’s cell with a barely contained smile and she nearly danced across the floor to stand before him. “There’s news, Captain. For some reason the Master executed an extensive transfer of guards from various facilities.”

 

“I thought I saw some new faces,” Jack commented between spoonfuls of bland food.

 

“We’ve had an influx of staff from the planet-side labor camps. They hear things; they hear rumors and stories we don’t get up here.”

 

“He’s so close to launching all of the rockets. Why would he suddenly shift all of his staff around?” Jack was puzzled.

 

“No one is sure. He might be worried about all the rumors surrounding Martha’s movements,” Tish speculated. “Still, some of your new guards used to be assigned to the labor camp your team is in. Some of their former guards are yours now. Some of yours are now theirs.”

 

Jack supposed the Master would be very annoyed if he’d known the small measure of comfort he had unwittingly given all of his prisoners with the staff changes and all the new information it had brought with it. “What’s the latest news on Martha?”

 

“She’s still alive. She’s making contact with every resistance cell she can find. She infiltrates the labor camps. She’s given them some sort of instructions,” Tish whispered. “Something is brewing. Something’s coming.”

 

“Good. That’s good, Tish!” Jack said.

 

“Your team is a handful, I’ve heard,” she nearly giggled. “Gwen fights everything all the time. She screams and yells and threatens and rallies the other two to fight back at every turn.”

 

“Sounds like Gwen,” Jack said with a small smile. “She’s not getting them hurt, is she?”

 

“It seems not. They’re just constantly stirring up trouble, making certain lives miserable,” Tish reassured him. “Toshiko? Is that right?” He nodded. “She’s using anything she can get her hands on to rig things that mess with everything computerized or electrical. They’re amazed at what she can use to make working components that do some amazing damage.”

 

“She’s bloody brilliant, my beautiful Tosh,” Jack said. “What about Ianto?”

 

“There’ve been a few times some new guards have gotten a little over zealous in their handling of the ladies and your Ianto has put them in their places.” For some reason this delighted Tish. “He’s particularly protective of Toshiko and the way I hear it they work on her projects together more often than not.”

 

“Yeah, he’s more than just a pretty face,” Jack said. “And he and Tosh have been close friends for months now.”

 

“Rumors have trickled down about the man who can’t die held captive on the _Valiant_, and they’re sure it’s you. They’ve begun a campaign to escape and rescue you.”

 

“Oh, no, no, no,” Jack moaned. “Can someone get word to them not to worry about me? They need to keep themselves safe and alive.”

 

“I don’t think they’ll listen, Captain,” Tish said as she began to clean up. “They have it in their heads that if they get free, they can spring you and the four of you can save the entire world, just like always.”

 

Jack could only shake his head and grin. He truly loved his team.

……………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 254

 

The Master stormed into the room and Jack stood to remove his clothing. The isomorphic lock was engaged and he knelt down on the carpeting, locked his fingers behind his neck and waited.

 

“Jack,” the Master enthused. “Are you aware of the type of ‘museums’ these humans have?”

 

Jack remained kneeling, naked and silent.

 

“Museums of the Holocaust. Museums of Tolerance. Museums of Torture. They celebrate their barbarity,” the Master laughed. “It’s a toy box down there, Jack.”

 

Jack could imagine. He was familiar with his own race’s history and there were many devices and techniques he himself had employed that had originated right here on Earth.

 

The Master picked something up and brought it to where Jack knelt. “This little item,” he said, admiring the object. “It’s based on the design of what your little people call the ‘pear’.”

 

Jack had not heard of it. The Master held it down into Jack’s eye line and he had to admit it did, in fact, resemble an elongated metal pear with a semi-sharp protrusion on the end.

 

“Originally, this had three purposes. I’ve added some modifications of my own, but I only have one use for it.”

 

Jack waited for the explanation.

 

“I _could_ use this in your mouth, but it’s your other orifice that I really want to experiment with,” the Master said, moving to the chest at the foot of the bed. He drew out a handful of restraints.

 

Leather and chains landed in a heap between Jack’s spread thighs. A wide leather posture collar was roughly fastened around his neck, forcing his chin upward, parallel to the floor.

 

“Stand up for me, Jack,” the Master said.

 

Jack’s stomach churned. His arms were pulled tightly behind his back and pressed together at the wrists. He felt the leather manacles slide over his hands then secure together tightly at the small of his back.

 

The Master massaged Jack’s cock and balls roughly, painfully. He gathered them up in one hand and tugged, sending a sick, slithering sensation into Jack’s gut in anticipation of the pain that never came. Instead, a wide leather band was wrapped around his sack and the base of his cock forcing them together and restricting his blood flow. A heavy metal ring adorned the leather and fell against Jack’s flaccid penis.

 

A sharp, loud smack landed on one of Jack’s bare arse cheeks, and he jumped slightly, startled at the sound and the sting. “Kneel up on the bed,” the Master ordered, and Jack obeyed. His movements were stilted and awkward since the mobility of his neck was reduced and his arms were secured tightly behind him.

 

The Master reached around Jack’s body and fastened a thin but sturdy chain to the ring in Jack’s posture collar. He yanked on the chain and threw Jack off balance so that he tipped forward suddenly. The Master continued to tug at Jack’s collar until he folded himself over enough that the other end of the chain could be fastened to the ring of the strap around his genitals.

 

Jack found himself kneeling on the Master’s bed, bent over at the waist, his throat connected to his groin by leather and metal. His arse was on display, naked and vulnerable, and he had no way to keep himself from falling face down into the bed if he lost his balance.

 

“Now comes the fun part,” the Master said.

 

Jack felt the familiar coldness of lube being drizzled in the cleft of his arse. A rough hand smoothed it over him, a finger sliding into his body. A second finger slid in, and twisted inside him.

 

The fingers withdrew and Jack felt cold metal pressing against his opening. Jack knew it was the Master’s pear. The small protrusion made its way inside of Jack then was followed by the wider part of the thick base. Jack had had thicker cocks up his arse, but they were flesh, not metal. This wide metal object pressed coldly into his body and Jack tipped forward into the mattress as he tried to pull away from the intrusion.

 

Reflexively, Jack tried to catch his own forward momentum only to feel the sharp tug on his cock and balls when he tried to straighten himself out.

 

“Come on, Jack,” the Master said as he continued to press the pear into Jack’s body. “You’ve taken bigger. You have to have taken bigger.” The wide bulge of the device was deep inside of Jack now. “Let’s see just how big you like them, shall we?”

 

The Master manipulated something on the handle end of the pear and Jack felt himself being widened from inside.

 

“I left this function manual, Jack,” the Master informed him as the sense that the pear was growing inside of him increased. “I just fancy the idea of cranking something open inside of you until you’re as wide open as I can get you.”

 

Jack gave in and rested his forehead on the bed. His breathing had picked up pace and he had begun to groan at the increasing discomfort. It was rapidly becoming full-fledged pain.

 

“The more interesting features I went ahead and made controllable with my laser screw driver,” the Master said conversationally. “We’ll get to those shortly. Right now I want to open you up.”

 

Jack trembled with the pain as the Master continued to crank open the pear. Jack felt all of the sharp protrusions pressing into the sides of his body. The multiple sections of the pear continued to separate from one another and Jack groaned loudly at the sharp poking and the dull throbbing as his body was stretched.

 

“See, Jack,” the Master laughed from behind him. “I knew I’d be able to get you wide open.”

 

Jack’s groans bordered on sobs now. He continued to press his face into the bed, trying not to twitch and jerk in pain and increase his discomfort by jerking on the restraints around his cock and balls. The wider the Master cranked open the pear, the worse the pain became. He felt as though the device was going to split him apart, tear at his insides and turn his guts inside out. Jack trembled as the pear pressed his opening wider and wider. His thighs quivered in pain and fatigue. Jack’s screams began when the sharper ends tore into his flesh.

 

“I think that should just about do it,” Jack heard the Master say. “Now for some of the fun features.”

 

Jack breathed deeply, hoping the pain would subside when he began to feel the heat building in the pear where it was buried inside of him. He heard the dull, vibrating hum of the Master’s laser screwdriver as it manipulated the pear’s controls. His groans resumed and his thighs continued to tremble as the heat continued to grow. It became searing, burning into Jack’s inner flesh. He could smell himself burn. His entire lower body felt like it was on fire. Jack began to scream again, ignoring the pain in his genitals as he tried to jerk his head upward. All was secondary to the fire in his belly.

 

“If you like that, Jack, you’ll _love_ this,” the Master said with enthusiasm. The tone of the hum from the laser screwdriver changed slightly and Jack was treated to electrical shocks on top of the searing heat. He had lost control of his body. He was convulsing and screaming and the pain in both his belly and his groin was unbearable. Jack realized the pain on the inside far outweighed the pain in his cock and balls so he thrashed against his restraints. He had to get away from the object shoved up inside of his body. It didn’t matter that he was tearing the leather bonds from around his own ball sack, tearing skin and drawing blood as he went. Jack didn’t care. He had to get away from the painful stretch, searing heat and electrical shocks.

 

As Jack crawled away from the torment buried inside of his own body, the Master climbed up on top of him and pinned him to the mattress. “I don’t know where you think you’re going.” The torque on his restrained arms joined the list of torments now as the Time Lord sat down on Jack’s body. “Don’t make me have to crucify you again to make you behave!”

 

Try as he might, Jack couldn’t cease his struggles. There was too much pain. It was too intense, too overwhelming. Jack’s brain was forcing his body to move away from it, regardless of what he knew would be the consequences.

 

“Oh come on, Jack,” the Master shouted angrily. “I thought we were past this.”

 

Jack felt a hand press hard between his shoulders and force him further into the mattress. He wasn’t sure how the Master managed it, but he reached back between Jack’s thighs and began to crank the pear into expanding once again. Jack struggled, but it got him nowhere. He was finally stretched to the point of tearing.

 

He knew he was about to slip into a welcome death when he felt himself getting weak. He was bleeding internally. His body had been ripped open on the inside and he was bleeding, bleeding to death, and he couldn’t wait. He hoped this death lasted a good long time because he didn’t want a repeat of this any time soon.

……………………………………………………**.**

 

Jack gasped his way back to life and immediately felt the pain when his body clenched around the pear still inserted inside him. The heat and electrical shocks were gone, probably because the Master was gone and had taken the laser screwdriver with him. His arms had been released so he could reach behind and figure out how to collapse the pear so it could be withdrawn.

 

When it slid free of his body Jack threw it across the room with all his strength and heard the very satisfying clanking of metal parts separating from one another and scattering. He tore the manacles free and tossed them aside. Finally, he removed the posture collar and sent it flying with the chain and cock ring still attached.

 

Jack was so entirely sick of this shit. They all really had to stop playing at escaping and figure out a way to get the fuck out of here and stop the Master for good.

……………………………………………………**.**

 

Day 260

 

Jack made it to the door of the TARDIS this time before the damn Toclafane finally got to him. He had just about figured out how to get past them and through them, but they finally caught him. Even so, he figured out what he’d done wrong at the last moment.

 

When he awoke this time, it was to see the guards doing a half-assed patch job on the wall of his cell so they could reset the rings his chains were secured to. Here Jack had been thinking he was such a strong guy, that he’d been ripping his chains right out of the wall, only to find out the guards had been rigging it up this way the entire time.

 

Suddenly it all clicked into place for Jack. All of the failed escape attempts, all of the failed plans to defeat the Master -- they had been scouting expeditions. They had been reconnaissance missions. Why hadn’t Jack, career soldier and warrior, seen this before? Each time they failed, they learned something new. One of them learned some small, significant fact that they added to their knowledge base and used the next time. Yes, they were distracting the Master so he didn’t focus all of his energies on locating Martha. Yes, they disrupted his focus on his plans for destroying Earth long enough to distract him and slow his progress. Through it all, they learned.

 

The Doctor had a plan. The Doctor always had a plan. It wasn’t always immediately decipherable, but it would always be for the greater good. Jack had forgotten for a time those lessons he’d learned from the Doctor about selflessness and sacrifice. He hoped his extended pity party hadn’t slowed the progress of the information-gathering. If it had, it was water under the bridge. He was on board one hundred percent now, though. Whatever they needed him to do.

 

He knew full well he might cost the lives of Gwen, Ianto and Toshiko. He couldn’t let that stop him. The Doctor’s plan was to save the planet and anyone still alive down there. His team would never forgive him for putting them above humanity. If their lives meant the eventual overthrow of the Master, they would give them. They would ask only that Jack do anything and everything he could to see it actually happened.

 

Jack was smiling when the new guards chained him back up. For the first time in 260 days, Jack thought he had a reason to go on.


	8. Chapter 8

Day 260

Jack made it to the door of the TARDIS this time before the damn Toclafane finally got to him. He had just about figured out how to get past them and through them, but they finally caught him. Even so, he figured out what he’d done wrong at the last moment.

When he awoke this time, it was to see the guards doing a half-assed patch job on the wall of his cell so they could reset the rings his chains were secured to. Here Jack had been thinking he was such a strong guy, that he’d been ripping his chains right out of the wall, only to find out the guards had been rigging it up this way the entire time.

Suddenly it all clicked into place for Jack. All of the failed escape attempts, all of the failed plans to defeat the Master -- they had been scouting expeditions. They had been reconnaissance missions. Why hadn’t Jack, career soldier and warrior, seen this before? Each time they failed, they learned something new. One of them learned some small, significant fact that they added to their knowledge base and used the next time. Yes, they were distracting the Master so he didn’t focus all of his energies on locating Martha. Yes, they disrupted his focus on his plans for destroying Earth long enough to distract him and slow his progress. Through it all, they learned.

The Doctor had a plan. The Doctor always had a plan. It wasn’t always immediately decipherable, but it would always be for the greater good. Jack had forgotten for a time those lessons he’d learned from the Doctor about selflessness and sacrifice. He hoped his extended pity party hadn’t slowed the progress of the information-gathering. If it had, it was water under the bridge. He was on board one hundred percent now, though. Whatever they needed him to do.

He knew full well he might cost the lives of Gwen, Ianto and Toshiko. He couldn’t let that stop him. The Doctor’s plan was to save the planet and anyone still alive down there. His team would never forgive him for putting them above humanity. If their lives meant the eventual overthrow of the Master, they would give them. They would ask only that Jack do anything and everything he could to see it actually happened.

Jack was smiling when the new guards chained him back up. For the first time in 260 days, Jack thought he had a reason to go on.

 

Day 261

Jack was hauled onto the command deck again. When the lift doors opened, he immediately looked around for the wooden cross but was relieved when he didn’t see it. Relief was quickly replaced by dread when he saw what was on the upper level. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was something commonly used in the time of Earth’s Spanish Inquisition called the rack.

Aw, hell.

Jack’s guards hauled him up the stairs, and he expected the stripping to begin. Instead he was forced to his knees, facing into the room.

The Master entered first, his face like thunder. He was as angry as Jack had ever seen him. He wondered what had gone wrong in the Master’s grand plan besides their latest attempt at escape, such as it was.

“Jack!” the Time Lord barked as he strode purposefully across the room and up the stairs. “I warned you. I warned you.”

Jack’s guards held him up as the Master backhanded him across the face.

“I told you the next time you defied me and martyred yourself you’d take one of your little team with you.” Jack didn’t think he’d ever seen the Master shake with rage before. That was a bonus. Still, Jack felt dread lying in his belly like a stone. If the Master’s statement meant what he feared it did…

Jack’s worst fears were realized when the lift opened to reveal Gwen, Ianto and Tosh dragged out of it by several armed guards. They seemed to all catch sight of him at once.

“Jack!” He heard each of them cry. All hell broke loose as they began to struggle against their captors. Gwen kicked out, Ianto executed a head butt and Tosh shoved hard against her guard, digging in and actually throwing him off balance.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Ianto, Gwen, Toshiko! Stop!” Jack heard his voice crack in distress and his desire for them to cease their struggles or risk being hurt.

They heard him and they stopped fighting, but they didn’t relax in their bonds. They were ready to have another go at any second. God, but he was proud of them. They were as grimy as he was, their jeans and shirts as filthy as his own. They were still beautiful as far as he was concerned. They were smart and strong and still fighting. He couldn’t be more proud.

“Jack! We knew it was you,” Gwen said through her tears. “When we heard about the man on the Valiant who couldn’t die, we knew it was you.”

“The one and only, kids,” Jack gave them a brilliant smile, trying to be reassuring. “You three been behaving yourselves?”

“Hell, no,” Gwen said loudly, “They killed Owen right in front of me.”

“I know. He made me watch.”

That fired them all up again. Gwen tried to shake off her captors’ hands once again. Ianto and Tosh attempted to run their own guards into one another to throw them off balance. It actually took several moments for them to be subdued again.

Jack could only laugh at their bravado. Who was he kidding? It was bravery. And they all looked good. As filthy as they were, they looked healthy. They were being fed and they weren’t being harmed, at least not seriously.

“Enough with the touching reunion,” the Master said. “I warned you, Jack. The next time you defied me for one of the Doctor’s idiotic plans, one of your team was going to die right along with you. Pity is, you’ll come back from the whole ordeal but none of them will.”

Jack didn’t take his eyes from his team. It had been too long since he’d seen them. He was saddened by the fact that Owen was no longer with them, but he’d take his blessings where he could find them.

“What’s he talking about, Jack?” Gwen asked hesitantly.

“We’ve all been staging active revolts up here. After the last one I was told that if I participated the next time I’d have to watch one of you die.” There was no point in hiding anything from them. They were going to find out soon enough.

His team stood silently regarding him. “We tried not to get caught, Jack,” Ianto said.

Jack met Ianto’s gaze again and couldn’t believe what he saw there. He looked to Tosh and then to Gwen and realized they all wore the same expression. They felt they had let him down when they’d been captured. They were being used against him and they blamed themselves. It hadn’t occurred to any of them that he should not try to escape even if it meant they had to forfeit their own lives.

“I hear you all raised some hell before they got you,” Jack told them, letting his pride show in his voice and his eyes. “I couldn’t have asked for more from you.”

The Master stood beside Jack slowly clapping his hands in a mocking manner. “Touching yet still nauseating,” he said with disgust. “Pick one, Jack.”

Jack’s eyes shot to the Master’s as his words sank in. He was being made to choose which of his team would die today. He looked back at the three of them and saw that they understood what was happening.

He couldn’t choose. He couldn’t sentence one of them to death. Jack shook his head in refusal.

“Choose one, Jack, or all three will die.”

Jack’s blood ran cold and he saw Gwen’s eyes widen. Ianto’s jaw dropped and Toshiko covered her mouth with both bound hands.

Jack considered quickly. He had to doom one to save two. Not Gwen, she fired them up. Kept them fighting. Not Tosh, she just might find a way to bring down Archangel yet. Not Ianto…not his Ianto. Jack knew he could not watch Ianto die in front of him. Looking back at Gwen, he caught sight of the steely determination in her eyes. She nodded at him slightly. She was volunteering.

In that moment Jack realized it almost made sense. Ianto and Tosh were one another’s support system. Yes, they all drew strength from one another but the friendship between Tosh and Ianto empowered them each just a little bit more. To take one of them away from the other would weaken the whole.

A look of understanding passed between he and Gwen and then Jack spoke. “Gwen.”

“PC Cooper, come on down,” the Master said in a twisted imitation of a quiz show host.

Tosh and Ianto let out cries of dismay and protest. They tried to interfere with the guards, who dragged Gwen to the Master.

“Tosh! Ianto! This is how it has to be,” Gwen yelled at them over her shoulder. “I volunteered. It needs to be me. Don’t blame Jack.”

When she was forced to kneel at the Master’s feet she glared up at him, hostile and defiant. “Don’t stop resisting,” she shouted. “Don’t ever give up.”

The Master produced a large, clear plastic bag and without hesitation slid it over Gwen’s head. She began to struggle immediately. She tried to draw her bound hands up to claw away the plastic but her guards held her fast. The Master secured the bag around her neck with a thick, black tape. Her struggles caused her to use whatever air she had that much faster. Jack suspected that was her intent. 

He watched in horror as Gwen Cooper suffocated in front of him. As she struggled to breathe, her face distorted as it was pressed against the bag, her movements became sluggish. Jack watched as the life left her eyes and she collapsed against the guards at the Master’s feet.

Gwen was dead.

“Get her out of here,” the Master said with disgust as he toed her lifeless body. He took the steps two at a time until he stood in front of Jack. “Let’s hope you learned your lesson, Captain,” he said.

Jack glared up at the Master with undisguised hatred, and in that moment he decided he would anything and everything he could think of to bring this Time Lord down.

His attention was drawn back to Ianto and Tosh at the back of the room where they had collapsed against one another. Tosh sobbed softly against Ianto as he held her against him, running his hands over her back. At the sight of them he knew he had made the right choice.

“Now it’s time for your real punishment, Jack.” He was pulled to his feet and his guards began to strip off his clothes.

“No!” Jack roared. He struggled against the hands that held him. He’d never done this before, fought his guards. They were caught off guard and looked to the Master in fear and confusion. “Not in front of them.” Jack said, inclining his head toward Ianto and Tosh.

“What, in our long association, Jack, has led you to think I would take any request you make into consideration?” the Master asked incredulously.

“You want my cooperation and my submission, don’t you?”

“I have that.”

“Until I take it back.”

The Master regarded Jack with something akin to surprise. “Since you desperately don’t want your remaining kiddies to witness your pain and humiliation, I find I really want them here for this.”

“If you keep them here for this I won’t go anywhere or do anything with you without one hell of a fight,” Jack leaned in so he could lower his voice just above a whisper. “I won’t suck your cock nicely anymore. I won’t lie beneath you and pretend to be enjoying myself. I’ll bite, scratch, punch and kick and I won’t care how you hurt me in retaliation. I can take it. I can die and come right back so I have nothing to fear.”

The Master took a step back. He regarded Jack for a long moment. “Get those two out of here,” he said over his shoulder. “Take them back planet-side.”

When their guards stood them up, Jack heard Ianto and Tosh shouting.  
“Get out of here,” Jack shouted back. “Go back to the surface. Stay alive. Any way you can.”

Jack’s last image of them was of their desperate expressions as Ianto and Toshiko were pulled backward into the lift by the guards. They all managed to smile at one another just before the doors slid shut.

Day 261

 

Jack was hauled onto the command deck again. When the lift doors opened, he immediately looked around for the wooden cross but was relieved when he didn’t see it. Relief was quickly replaced by dread when he saw what _was_ on the upper level. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was something commonly used in the time of Earth’s Spanish Inquisition called the rack.

 

Aw, hell.

 

Jack’s guards hauled him up the stairs, and he expected the stripping to begin. Instead he was forced to his knees, facing into the room.

 

The Master entered first, his face like thunder. He was as angry as Jack had ever seen him. He wondered what had gone wrong in the Master’s grand plan besides their latest attempt at escape, such as it was.

 

“Jack!” the Time Lord barked as he strode purposefully across the room and up the stairs. “I warned you. I warned you.”

 

Jack’s guards held him up as the Master backhanded him across the face.

 

“I told you the next time you defied me and martyred yourself you’d take one of your little team with you.” Jack didn’t think he’d ever seen the Master shake with rage before. That was a bonus. Still, Jack felt dread lying in his belly like a stone. If the Master’s statement meant what he feared it did…

 

Jack’s worst fears were realized when the lift opened to reveal Gwen, Ianto and Tosh dragged out of it by several armed guards. They seemed to all catch sight of him at once.

 

“Jack!” He heard each of them cry. All hell broke loose as they began to struggle against their captors. Gwen kicked out, Ianto executed a head butt and Tosh shoved hard against her guard, digging in and actually throwing him off balance.

 

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Ianto, Gwen, Toshiko! Stop!” Jack heard his voice crack in distress and his desire for them to cease their struggles or risk being hurt.

 

They heard him and they stopped fighting, but they didn’t relax in their bonds. They were ready to have another go at any second. God, but he was proud of them. They were as grimy as he was, their jeans and shirts as filthy as his own. They were still beautiful as far as he was concerned. They were smart and strong and still fighting. He couldn’t be more proud.

 

“Jack! We knew it was you,” Gwen said through her tears. “When we heard about the man on the _Valiant_ who couldn’t die, we knew it was you.”

 

“The one and only, kids,” Jack gave them a brilliant smile, trying to be reassuring. “You three been behaving yourselves?”

 

“Hell, no,” Gwen said loudly, “They killed Owen right in front of me.”

 

“I know. He made me watch.”

 

That fired them all up again. Gwen tried to shake off her captors’ hands once again. Ianto and Tosh attempted to run their own guards into one another to throw them off balance. It actually took several moments for them to be subdued again.

 

Jack could only laugh at their bravado. Who was he kidding? It was bravery. And they all looked good. As filthy as they were, they looked healthy. They were being fed and they weren’t being harmed, at least not seriously.

 

“Enough with the touching reunion,” the Master said. “I warned you, Jack. The next time you defied me for one of the Doctor’s idiotic plans, one of your team was going to die right along with you. Pity is, you’ll come back from the whole ordeal but none of them will.”

 

Jack didn’t take his eyes from his team. It had been too long since he’d seen them. He was saddened by the fact that Owen was no longer with them, but he’d take his blessings where he could find them.

 

“What’s he talking about, Jack?” Gwen asked hesitantly.

 

“We’ve all been staging active revolts up here. After the last one I was told that if I participated the next time I’d have to watch one of you die.” There was no point in hiding anything from them. They were going to find out soon enough.

 

His team stood silently regarding him. “We tried not to get caught, Jack,” Ianto said.

 

Jack met Ianto’s gaze again and couldn’t believe what he saw there. He looked to Tosh and then to Gwen and realized they all wore the same expression. They felt they had let him down when they’d been captured. They were being used against him and they blamed themselves. It hadn’t occurred to any of them that he should not try to escape even if it meant they had to forfeit their own lives.

 

“I hear you all raised some hell before they got you,” Jack told them, letting his pride show in his voice and his eyes. “I couldn’t have asked for more from you.”

 

The Master stood beside Jack slowly clapping his hands in a mocking manner. “Touching yet still nauseating,” he said with disgust. “Pick one, Jack.”

 

Jack’s eyes shot to the Master’s as his words sank in. He was being made to choose which of his team would die today. He looked back at the three of them and saw that they understood what was happening.

 

He couldn’t choose. He couldn’t sentence one of them to death. Jack shook his head in refusal.

 

“Choose one, Jack, or all three will die.”

 

Jack’s blood ran cold and he saw Gwen’s eyes widen. Ianto’s jaw dropped and Toshiko covered her mouth with both bound hands.

 

Jack considered quickly. He had to doom one to save two. Not Gwen, she fired them up. Kept them fighting. Not Tosh, she just might find a way to bring down Archangel yet. Not Ianto…not his Ianto. Jack knew he _could not_ watch Ianto die in front of him. Looking back at Gwen, he caught sight of the steely determination in her eyes. She nodded at him slightly. She was volunteering.

 

In that moment Jack realized it almost made sense. Ianto and Tosh were one another’s support system. Yes, they all drew strength from one another but the friendship between Tosh and Ianto empowered them each just a little bit more. To take one of them away from the other would weaken the whole.

 

A look of understanding passed between he and Gwen and then Jack spoke. “Gwen.”

 

“PC Cooper, come on down,” the Master said in a twisted imitation of a quiz show host.

 

Tosh and Ianto let out cries of dismay and protest. They tried to interfere with the guards, who dragged Gwen to the Master.

 

“Tosh! Ianto! This is how it has to be,” Gwen yelled at them over her shoulder. “I volunteered. It needs to be me. Don’t blame Jack.”

 

When she was forced to kneel at the Master’s feet she glared up at him, hostile and defiant. “Don’t stop resisting,” she shouted. “Don’t ever give up.”

 

The Master produced a large, clear plastic bag and without hesitation slid it over Gwen’s head. She began to struggle immediately. She tried to draw her bound hands up to claw away the plastic but her guards held her fast. The Master secured the bag around her neck with a thick, black tape. Her struggles caused her to use whatever air she had that much faster. Jack suspected that was her intent.

 

He watched in horror as Gwen Cooper suffocated in front of him. As she struggled to breathe, her face distorted as it was pressed against the bag, her movements became sluggish. Jack watched as the life left her eyes and she collapsed against the guards at the Master’s feet.

 

Gwen was dead.

 

“Get her out of here,” the Master said with disgust as he toed her lifeless body. He took the steps two at a time until he stood in front of Jack. “Let’s hope you learned your lesson, Captain,” he said.

 

Jack glared up at the Master with undisguised hatred, and in that moment he decided he would anything and everything he could think of to bring this Time Lord down.

 

His attention was drawn back to Ianto and Tosh at the back of the room where they had collapsed against one another. Tosh sobbed softly against Ianto as he held her against him, running his hands over her back. At the sight of them he knew he had made the right choice.

 

“Now it’s time for your real punishment, Jack.” He was pulled to his feet and his guards began to strip off his clothes.

 

“No!” Jack roared. He struggled against the hands that held him. He’d never done this before, fought his guards. They were caught off guard and looked to the Master in fear and confusion. “Not in front of them.” Jack said, inclining his head toward Ianto and Tosh.

 

“What, in our long association, Jack, has led you to think I would take any request you make into consideration?” the Master asked incredulously.

 

“You want my cooperation and my submission, don’t you?”

 

“I have that.”

 

“Until I take it back.”

 

The Master regarded Jack with something akin to surprise. “Since you desperately don’t want your remaining kiddies to witness your pain and humiliation, I find I really want them here for this.”

 

“If you keep them here for this I won’t go anywhere or do anything with you without one hell of a fight,” Jack leaned in so he could lower his voice just above a whisper. “I won’t suck your cock nicely anymore. I won’t lie beneath you and pretend to be enjoying myself. I’ll bite, scratch, punch and kick and I won’t care how you hurt me in retaliation. I can take it. I can die and come right back so I have nothing to fear.”

 

The Master took a step back. He regarded Jack for a long moment. “Get those two out of here,” he said over his shoulder. “Take them back planet-side.”

 

When their guards stood them up, Jack heard Ianto and Tosh shouting.

“Get out of here,” Jack shouted back. “Go back to the surface. Stay alive. Any way you can.”

 

Jack’s last image of them was of their desperate expressions as Ianto and Toshiko were pulled backward into the lift by the guards. They all managed to smile at one another just before the doors slid shut.

 

 

When the doors had closed on Tosh’s and Ianto’s exit, Jack relaxed and submitted to the guards once again. They removed his clothes and he offered no resistance. He caught the Master watching him carefully.

 

“I had no idea it was so important to you that your little team not see you weak and helpless,” the Master said, as if he’d just discovered something new and delightful.

 

“It matters to me that they don’t lose hope,” he said, but it was only half the truth. The Master had been right; Jack was horrified at the idea of Ianto seeing him naked, bound, bloody and dying.

 

The guards finished stripping him and then lifted Jack onto the rack. His torso was placed over three rolling tubes with dozens of sharp spikes all along their surfaces. His wrists and ankles were secured at either end by rough ropes. The Master stepped up and once again tortured Jack himself.

 

Each crank of the lever at Jack’s feet pulled his limbs further from his body. Each turn stretched him further and further until his arms felt like they were about to be pulled from his shoulders and his legs were about to be yanked from his hips.

 

Jack screamed with abandon. He’d been through worse, quite recently in fact. This was nothing. Jack felt at peace today. He’d seen his team. Toshiko and Ianto were alive and healthy. Together they had formed their own little internal resistance cell.

 

As Jack’s first shoulder slipped from its socket, he didn’t care. He’d faced his worst fear – causing the death of one of his team. Gwen had helped him face it and had given him absolution for his decision in the end. As his second shoulder slipped from its socket, Jack didn’t care. He’d seen Ianto. Jack’s legs slipped from their own sockets at almost the same time, as he lost consciousness. Jack’s last conscious thought was of Toshiko and just how beautiful and brilliant she was.

……………………………………………………**.**

 

When Jack roused he was more than a little surprised to find he was still on the rack, still in pain and that his bones were still out of joint. He groaned and started to look around for an explanation.

 

“Captain, try to relax,” he heard Francine say from somewhere near him.

 

“Why haven’t I healed?” he croaked through his pain.

 

“We don’t know,” Francine answered with desperation in her voice.

 

“Where is he?” Jack asked, trying to look around.

 

“He left. Something happened planet-side that sent him into a fit and he just left.” He felt her gentle hands stroke his face soothingly. “We’ve untied you but you don’t seem to be healing.”

 

“Kill him,” came a soft voice from somewhere on the lower level.

 

“What?” Francine asked in confusion.

 

“Kill him.” Jack realized it was the Doctor who’d spoken. “It will reset his body. It’s in death that he heals.”

 

“Yes,” Jack concurred, realizing he was right. Leave it to the Doctor to know how this whole thing worked.

 

“But...how?” Francine asked.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jack gasped through his pain. “Just do it.”

 

“I can’t kill you, Captain,” Francine sounded appalled.

 

“You have to. It’s okay, Francine,” he reassured her.

 

“Here,” a male voice said. “A knife to the heart will be the safest and probably the most humane.” The face of the guard who had been with Jack the longest and shown him the most courtesy and respect appeared just above him. He produced the long, wicked blade that the Master always seemed to wield. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he said to Jack, tightening his grip on the hilt.

 

“Hurry,” Jack groaned.

 

In the end it went pretty well compared to Jack’s recent deaths. The guard made a clean and accurate strike, and he died quickly and mercifully. **……………………………………………………………………**

 

No one was ever sure why the Master lost almost all interest in torturing Jack. Rumors were everywhere that Martha Jones was making her way back to the U.K. The Master seemed to always be just a few steps behind her. The Resistance was growing and the willing informants planet-side were fewer and further between. Toshiko continued to try to crash Archangel with Ianto’s help and support.

 

The Toclafane were still killing anyone who looked sideways at one of them, and the Master continued to slowly kill the planet as he tried to march onward toward his new Time Lord Empire. It became a race against time. Could he kill the planet and launch his war on the universe before they stopped him?

 

The attention the Master used to pay to Jack seemed to shift instead to the Doctor. He teased and taunted him, increasing the humiliations he heaped on his fellow Time Lord until they were a daily, eventually an hourly, occurrence. The Doctor never stopped organizing escape attempts, and perhaps in the end, combating those along with all the other troubles that were being thrown his way was what finally brought the Master’s wrath down solely on the Doctor.

 

Sometime around Day 300, the Master’s manic jovialness seemed to morph into something a little more unhinged. The self-congratulatory parties he threw in the control room seemed more forced than they had been previously. More and more beautiful young women prowled the corridors of the _Valiant_, but none seemed to please him like they used to. His treatment of Lucy became dark and violent. More often than not she sported a black eye or a fat lip and the vacant look in her eyes was constantly present.

 

As of Day 310, Jack spent nearly every moment of every day and night chained in his cell. His only respite was when he broke free and tried once again to make it to the TARDIS. As always, the Toclafane got him at the last second. He’d wake up in his cell and his guards would patch the wall half-heartedly so Jack could pull out his restraints the next time. Since the Master never arranged for visits anymore, Jack stopped getting showers and Tish and Francine never had another chance to try to launder his clothes. By Day 320 Jack couldn’t stand to be around himself.

 

Around Day 365 rumors were rampant that Martha Jones was back on British soil. The Doctor organized their final escape attempt. They executed it on the day the Master got hold of Martha and brought her back to the _Valiant_. The Master’s outrage at the Doctor snatching up of his laser screwdriver led him to resurrect the television signals so the world could watch him age the Doctor beyond recognition. Jack watched from his cell as the Master delivered his message to Martha Jones.

…………………………………..

 

Jack was thrilled to see Martha looking so well. The last year couldn’t have been much easier on her than it had been on him, and if she died, it would be permanent. He was amazed at the Doctor’s plan, the plan that Martha had spent a year putting into action. As soon as the Doctor was restored, it was up to Jack to put into action all that he had learned about getting past the Toclafane and into the TARDIS. This time, though, he had help.

 

With the Master neutralized and no longer a threat to their loved ones, Jack’s guards were willing and able to help. Jack got into the TARDIS and destroyed the Paradox Machine. Shortly after he got back to the command bridge, the entire year had reset itself. Jack was light headed with relief and joy when he realized his team was intact, alive and most likely somewhere in Tibet making their way home. Owen had to be pissed off that they’d been sent on a wild goose chase, but Jack didn’t care. He was alive. Gwen was alive. None of them would have any memory whatsoever of the year that now never was, never had been.

……………………………………………….

 

Jack stood quietly over the Doctor as the Time Lord cradled the lifeless body of the Master against his own. The grief was palpable in the room. Jack felt his heart ache with compassion for the Doctor. He’d thought himself alone for centuries, found out another of his kind still lived, and then that person had been taken from him so that he was once again alone. The sobs that shook the Doctor’s shoulders were heartrending. Jack knew that pain, the familiar pain and desolation of loss.

 

Jack’s emotions about the Master were mixed, and that surprised him. He looked on as the Time Lord he loved cradled the one who had hurt and humiliated him continuously during the past year. Part of Jack hated the Master with every fiber of his being. Remembering the times he’d been taken to the Master’s bedchamber, the times he’d been murdered in horrific ways, Jack had a sudden inclination to grab up the Time Lord’s dead form, toss it out a door and let it plummet down to the Earth below. Drawing and quartering him, even though he was beyond feeling the pain, seemed like a satisfying option, too. One bullet wasn’t enough, to Jack’s way of thinking. He’d like to put a few more in himself.

 

Another part of Jack knew the Master had been sick and afraid and hadn’t known how to cope, so he’d become a bully. He had tried to control his own fear and exorcise his own shame at his cowardice by controlling a planet and bending its people to his will. Jack realized the Master didn’t deserve his hatred. Only his pity.

 

The Doctor continued to hold the Master’s body to himself as silent tears streaked down his face. He looked as broken as Jack should feel. Instead he felt only a sense of relief that the psychotic Time Lord was dead. The past year had never existed except in the memories of those who had been on the Valiant’s bridge when time had reset. Jack had his memories sure enough, and they weren’t pretty. But it was over and he was thankful for that. He could and he would heal. To hang on to his hatred would only eat at him, knaw at his guts until he didn’t just hate the Master, but also himself and all those around him who might try to reach out.

 

Thinking of those who would reach out to him, Jack spun around and looked for the women who had been his saviors in the past year. He found them at the back of the room, huddled together and weeping. He started toward them.

 

Martha saw Jack first when she looked up from her mother’s tight embrace. She graced him with a wide smile and stepped in to hug him.

 

“Ugh!” she wrinkled her nose at him. “Jack, you stink.”

 

He laughed at her, relieved at feeling lighthearted enough to laugh after so long. “Your mother has been trying to get me to wash behind my ears, but I just don’t learn.”

 

“I’m surprised she didn’t pin you down and make you wash behind them.”

 

He leaned down and whispered in Martha’s ear, “I run fast, she couldn’t catch me.”

 

Jack released Martha to go to Francine and draw her into a tight embrace, “Thank you,” he said into her ear, “for everything.”

 

Francine’s eyes flooded with tears once again. “You are so very welcome, Captain.”

 

“Jack,” he corrected and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

 

“Jack,” Francine repeated dutifully.

 

He cradled her face between his hands. “You were the caretaker of my sanity this past year.”

 

“And you are my hero.”

 

Humbled, Jack place a kiss on her forehead, then turned to locate Tish. She stood in the circle of her father’s arms. He took her hand and drew her to himself.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered as he hugged her tightly, “and I’m sorry you had to go through this with me.”

 

Tish clutched at Jack’s shirt and shook her head against his chest, “You have nothing to apologize for. I wish there had been more I could have done for you.”

 

Jack pulled back and kissed her on each of her cheeks before releasing her back to her father’s care. He turned once again to Martha.

 

“So Martha,” Jack said as he slung an arm around her shoulders, “Done anything interesting lately?”

 

“Oh, you know,” she said in a casual tone, “I kicked around Europe for a while, got chased by Toclafane on multiple continents, convinced an entire resistance movement to say the same word at the same time on the same day. The usual.”

 

Jack laughed again and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

 

“Thank _you_, Jack,” she countered with a serious expression. “It would have been for nothing if you hadn’t rescued the TARDIS.”

 

“Took me long enough to figure out how to do that.”

 

“You figured it out when it mattered.” They clung to one another for several long moments before Jack remembered the Doctor. He turned to look at the two huddled Time Lords across the room.

 

“He looks broken,” he heard Martha say.

 

“He’s alone again.”

 

“Can we do something for him?”

 

“You stay with your family. I’ll see to the Doctor.”

 

Jack quietly approached the Doctor and the Master’s body. He stared down at the smooth features of the Master’s face as he lay still in death. He felt the last of his hatred and resentment bleed away. He’d given the Master all he was going to give him. He was keeping the rest. Maybe he’d give a little bit more to Ianto this time.

 

The Master had viewed him as a freak to be experimented on and tortured as if he were a non-sentient. Worthy only of cruel experimentation. Jack _knew_ he had a purpose, now. He’d learned what that purpose was during the past year. He had been given a gift. It was not a curse. He was not a freak and he was not wrong. He was going to take himself home to his team because he loved them and they loved him and together they did important work.

 

The Doctor’s sobs subsided, and it was time to start moving on. For all of them. “Doctor,” Jack kept his voice low, “how can I help you?”

 

Without looking up the Doctor answered, “I’d like to get him down to the surface. Someplace remote where I can light the traditional pyre.”

 

“I can help you with that. I even know a good spot.”

 

“Thank you, Jack,” he heard the Doctor whisper against the Master’s hair.

………………………………………….

 

“I’m sorry for what you went through, Jack,” the Doctor said to him after they disposed of the Master’s body.

 

“So am I, Doctor,” Jack replied.

 

“I would have stopped him if I could have.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Thank you for your help this past year. You realize it was your ability to get into the TARDIS that ended this entire nightmare?”

 

“You’re welcome, Doctor. But I did it as much for Martha, her family and my team as I did for you.”

 

“All stellar reasons,” The Doctor paused. “You’re a very brave man, Jack. I hadn’t realized just how brave until now.”

 

“Dying for you on the Game Station wasn’t a clue?”

 

The Doctor sighed heavily. “I didn’t know what to do about you. You scared me a little. I just wanted to be away.”

 

“Well, I’ve found my place with Torchwood and my team. I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

 

“They’re lucky to have you, Captain.”

 

“I’m lucky to have them.”

…………………………………………_.._

 

When the Doctor said Jack could him, he was surprised that he really didn’t want to go. His heart and his mind were already back that the Hub; his body just needed to follow. He was proud of his work with Torchwood and he was back to continue it. He was proud of his team and he was back to lead them and guide them.

 

Before too much time passed he needed to get Ianto alone so he could start showing thathan a passing office romance. Jack shook his head and laughed at himself. How could he spend a year being chained, tortured, raped and killed over and over and still be nervous of the welcome home he was going to receive from Ianto?

 

He’d sort it later. Right now he couldn’t run across the Plass fast enough.

 


End file.
